You win the battle

You raise your practice saber and stand your ground. Your mind races as you jump into auto-pilot, parrying and redirecting blows while dodging attacks you cannot defend against. The Flesh Raiders are relentless in their ****, but you manage to stave off the smaller ones while the apparent ****-sensitive leader watches.

You risk glances at it every now and again, dread gripping your heart. This shouldn't be possible, right? The **** lived in all things, but for these beasts to be able to touch it? To wield it?

After an arduous battle, you cut down the last of the leader's goons. It, in turn, snarls and raises a hand. The **** ripples, the Flesh Raiders will reaching to harness control of it. You breathe in as it roars, prepared to blast you back. Just as it does, you exhale and push back with your own **** push.

Your strikes collide and conflict before settling. The Flesh Raider bellows and leaps through the air. You step back as it lands, weapon bearing down overhead to gouge the earth. Swinging your blade, you cut its side and jump back as it rears in agony and rage.

It has no control, no restraint. The Flesh Raider is nothing more than savagery manifest, its presence in the **** a burning flame that threatens to raze everything around it. You steel yourself against its onslaught, though, and will the **** to be your shield and sword.

Trading, blocking, and parrying blows, you go back and forth across the clearing before the Flesh Raider makes a fatal mistake. In its rage, it attempts to throw the **** at you as if it were throwing a boulder. The control and willpower needed for that could be overcome with anger alone, but the time it takes for it to gather that much power is enough for you to surge forward and slash it across its abdomen.

Twisting around, you raise your saber and watch as it collapses. You breathe in, then out. In, then out.

"Padawan!"

You jump and turn to find Master Kiwiiks and her padawan Kira running over. Their hands are by their weapons as they survey the clearing.

"Master Orgus sent us." Master Kiwiiks studies the dead Flesh Raiders. "We came as quickly as we could."

"One of the Flesh Raiders I just fought called me 'Jedi'." You sheathe your weapon and take a deep breath. "It could use the ****."

Both Jedi before you stare, their faces puzzled before they become shocked. Master Kiwiiks mulls over your claim, worry etched into her features. If the Flesh Raiders can learn to use the ****, it will likely not be down the path of the Light Side.

As she contemplates on the matter, her other padawan pokes a dead Flesh Raider with her foot. She jokes about you clearing out the clearing, trying to lighten the mood. You play along, still strung up a bit. Though, you appreciate the attempt.

Suddenly, Master Kiwiik pulls something off a body. In her hands she holds the unmistakable shape of a holocron. A very old holocron at that. As far as she can tell, this is a bad sign.

The Flesh Raiders are learning not just how to fight the Order, but how to fight like them too.

You ask what you should do next, to which she hands you a collection of holo-cameras. The Council wants you to place them throughout the ruins so they can keep watch on them.

You'd appreciate a hand, but apparently, Master Kiwiiks and Kira need to go to Coruscant. A darkness is descending on the Order, and the heart of the problem might just lie there.

After parting ways, you set about planting cameras throughout Kaleth.