On the Wings of Valkyrie

Chapter XXXV

Luna had given up traditional fighting. She had fought saber to saber at first, when there had been only a few Hands. But then more and more kept coming even as some fell, and it became extremely hard to maneuver in the quickly crowding room, plus bodies on the floor weren't the best when it came to stability and the pile that had formed on top of the table Luna was using for high ground was getting tall enough that her head almost touched the ceiling.

So she gave up on traditional dueling. These weren't the most sensitive Hands she'd run into anyways, so honestly the best way to counteract them would be the Force rather than blade work since it was likely they knew more about the latter and not the former.

Hence she decided to use one of the many Force abilities in her arsenal that she rarely touched just because she was so used to not being allowed to use it that she often forgot she was capable of it.

So, right now, Luna had her eyes closed and was sitting cross legged on top of the pile of bodies holding her activated lightsaber pointed towards the ceiling in case something got past her Force fed defenses.

A Force maelstrom swirled around her, picking up debris, bodies, Hands, and everything else that wasn't protected by her Force shield and repeatedly hitting her enemies with said objects as they flew helplessly around her—some even crashing into the walls repeatedly as they struggled to escape while others were picked up as soon as they entered the room. Many of the Hands had also lost their lightsabers, so there were about a dozen activated red blades in the whirlwind as well. And, just for the heck of it, Luna also added in the occasional lighting blast.

It was kinda fun, being a storm cell. A tad bit compact in the control room, but fun all the same, though the screams were annoying. And she was trying to forget the fact she was sitting on top of a pile of bodies—it just didn't feel right to be using a once living person's body as a seat. In fact, she'd never liked walking directly over the hallowed ground between the headstone and footstone where the coffin lay six feet under because, at the end of the day, there was a body down there.

So sitting on bodies wasn't Luna's thing. Sure, she'd get herself covered in blood, brain bits, etcetera and just be somewhat annoyed that she got dirty, especially when she wouldn't have easy access to a refresher for awhile—getting covered in such undesirable substances had been tied into her job for six years after all. Luna supposed she just wasn't big on disrespecting the dead regardless of whether or not they had been allies or enemies.

So she found herself humming to a Nightcore version of a song as she watched the maelstrom in her mind's eye even as she expanded her senses outwards to keep track of the progress of the Rebels while distinctly trying to forget what the cushion she was seated on actually was.

"Murder lives forever,

And so does war," Luna sang even as she directed one of the flying red blades to cut through a passing Hand before it streaked to another position. "It's survival of the fittest,

Rich against the poor.

At the end of the day,

It's a human trait,

Hidden deep down inside of our D.N.A." The saber impaled another Hand.

"One man can build a bomb,

Another run a race," she sensed the battle Luke was slowly but surely marching through. The once Sith apprentice slipped into the minds of the stormtroopers, planting seeds of terror and helplessness—enough to give Luke more of an edge but not enough to trigger a suicidal desperate attempt to attack the Jedi, "To save somebody's life and have it blow up in his face.