The one behind her can't even squall in shock- she can hear it slam into the wall. It must be good and winded at the least. The other two go rolling across the floor, and in the dim light something dark spatters across the floor. A new smell filters through Dia's mask, thin and sharp.

As they scrabble and growl and lunge to their feet, they must know they're in trouble. One of the two thrown is moving more painfully. Those brilliant sabers dance across their vision, a guard and a threat from the robed woman. But they don't run.

The one behind her lifts its blaster from the corner it was slammed into. Opens fire on her again. One of the others- the injured one- pulls a short cylinder from its belt and throws it like a spear, aiming for the floor behind Dia. It sparks as it flies, ready to stick where it hits and burst with an electrical explosion.