|
sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
145 likes
|
|
last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Oct 21, 2010 17:26:51 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Oct 21, 2010 17:26:51 GMT -5
"You do realize that just because I could hear your loud, clanging footsteps before and now I can't, doesn't mean I don't know you're still there," she said softly. Her back was turned to him as she quietly fitted another rocket into her arm launcher.
He spoke. "She's gone. Now, its just you and me. No place to run this time. Time to put your money where your mouth is, deary." Deary? Deary?! She'd have to take him down extra painfully for that.
"Yes, you're right. She's gone. But she'll have to come out eventually. When she does, she'll see a sky where the stars are blotted out by smoke from burning buildings, and she'll have to explain to her people why she wasn't able to protect them. Why the Jedi weren't able to protect them. This battle was won before we even started fighting." She turned around slowly and faced him. Her lightsaber leaped from where it hung on her belt into her hand.
"So what are you going to do? Try to stop me like you did out there?"
|
|
|
|
|
Kuhblam
I've got two guns, one for each of ya'.
|
|
last online Sept 7, 2013 15:30:01 GMT -5
Guardian
|
|
|
Oct 29, 2010 21:19:28 GMT -5
Post by Kuhblam on Oct 29, 2010 21:19:28 GMT -5
"Yes, you're right. She's gone. But she'll have to come out eventually. When she does, she'll see a sky where the stars are blotted out by smoke from burning buildings, and she'll have to explain to her people why she wasn't able to protect them. Why the Jedi weren't able to protect them. This battle was won before we even started fighting."
The assassin's voice was eerily cold, yet unflinching; Ryke could have sworn he'd heard a trace bit of evil cockiness in that statement. Of course, it wasn't to say Ryke wasn't impulsive himself; he was talented but more than once had he been labeled as too much of a "show-man."
Good. I like egos.
"So what are you going to do? Try to stop me like you did out there?"
This time, she was making a blatant attempt to insult Ryke, get him riled up and out of focus; however, Ryke had fallen to the ruse of Dun Moch before, and he did not intend to take the role of prey in a game of who could bait the other into mistakes first. His eyes did not need to shift to sense the silver lightsaber hilt shooting into her hand through subtle manipulation of the Force's energy.
"Stop you? I already have, albeit indirectly. I don't think you understand. You are surrounded by not only the Jedi here in the stadium," Ryke said, "but dozens, if not hundreds, of Republic troopers moving to surround and eclipse this place. You are alone and exhausted, your dogs ordered to scatter or most likely dead. More-over, if you make it out of here, you will return to your masters empty-handed and awaiting punishment. You are right, assassin; this battle was won before we started fighting."
The time for words over, Ryke dropped into a cool Ataru stance as a burning yellow blade was brought forth from his lightsaber hilt. Shii-Cho, as before, was too direct although it's dogged use actually surprised some duelists due to the style'ss archaic and unwiedly moves. Although his space was limited and the risk of becoming too exhausted to fight effectively ran high, Ryke had no choice in this unneeded case of discipline choice; Ataru was the focus of his training and he had utilized it well in past times. The rare Phond crystal within his lightsaber was doing it's job to the letter, and a tiny bit of arrogance bit Ryke in the lip as the woman squinted for a fraction of a second in the blade's bright light, which contrasted like a sword and shield in comparison to the horizontal sun clashing with the darkness of the tunnel hallway.
His blade-work as sharp as his words, Ryke quickly moved to gain the initiative against his adversary as he sprinted forward to gain momentum. Spinning the lightsaber in his hand in an unintentional display of dexterity, Ryke's muscular right arm came over the top of his shoulder blade and head as he brought it down towards the Sith whilst his left hand came back to grasp it for better control. The yellow blade collided with an icy blue spear in the dark in a display of convoluted sparks and distorted humming as Ryke succeeded somewhat in forcing the blade downwards towards his opponent. He could feel that his strength would come to a valuable asset in the next few moments; the Sith had thus far proven herself to be fast and skilled, and it would come down to a show of brute force versus agility in their tunnel duel. Still parried by her own blade, Ryke released his pressure unexpectedly before striking to his left and right repeatedly in a series of rhythmic patterns to get the assassin into his own pace.
You control the pace, you control the outcome.
The early stages of this tango were simple enough, but Ryke could feel her growing slightly more focused; she was channeling her anger and she was literally feeding off of it to control her actions. It had only been twenty seconds, and the young Jedi could feel an aura of uncertainty in his subconscious as he continued his offense.
|
|
|
|
|
sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
145 likes
|
|
last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Oct 30, 2010 4:30:22 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Oct 30, 2010 4:30:22 GMT -5
The stadium, the surrounding city, with its office buildings and factories all ablaze. Hundreds killed. More wounded. Even as the war raged on the borders between the opposing sides, the Sith had managed to strike across half the galaxy, with speed, efficiency, and brutality. And the result? Chaos.
It was a victory. Not a complete one, but significant nonetheless. Considering the part she had played, not too shabby for a girl who was only twenty-two.
Sure, there had been a few casualties among the Sith. Zarene's squad, commanded by Byar, had two wounded. But overall, an impressive performance considering the amount of damage they had caused. But they had retreated now, their job done. There was only one loose end left.
How did the old saying go? No pain, no gain? No victory without sacrifice?
Whatever the sacrifice was going to be today, Zarene wasn't going to be it. Not if she had anything to say about it.
This was a less than ideal place to fight. Zarene was mediocre at best with a lightsaber, preferring to engage her opponents at range, utilizing intelligent positioning and concentrated hails of fire to overcome their lightsaber defense. But if there was one thing she had learned in her career as in assassin, it was that conditions were never going to be perfect. Stop whining. Adapt.
She watched as her opponent started out in an Ataru stance. An Ataru stance in a confined corridor. This one didn't learn how to adapt. Just rigid memorization. Flash over substance. Perhaps her chances weren't quite as bad and she had originally thought.
Her blue blade burst to life, quickly blocking his first strike. He was quite strong, and she felt her blade move an inch closer to her face before she was able to stop it. He then began a series to left and right swipes, each of which she parried with basic Shii-cho techniques, simple but effective. He was trying to force her back, and his attacks had an almost rhythmic quality to them.
A duel with blaster pistols was quite different from one with sabers. But many of the same principles applied. Identify the pattern. Then break it.
She hopped backwards, drew her saber close to her body. He had expected another parry, but this time his blade swished through empty air. Zarene's blue blade flashed forward, a fast thrust aimed for the center of his chest.
|
|
|
|
|
Kuhblam
I've got two guns, one for each of ya'.
|
|
last online Sept 7, 2013 15:30:01 GMT -5
Guardian
|
|
|
Dec 5, 2010 18:21:18 GMT -5
Post by Kuhblam on Dec 5, 2010 18:21:18 GMT -5
(OOC: Force-Powered Falcon Pawnch!)
His pattern still a series of rhythmic beats, Ryke's concentration was chaotically broken as his burning yellow blade collided with open air, nothing blocking its path as he over-extended himself and a bright blue beam of light extended straight for his chest. His eyes narrowing at the light reaching out through the darkness for his armor, Ryke awkardly pushed himself backwards, extending his butt out as the point of the assassin's saber singed the thin durasteel plating on his torso. His mind went into hyper mode as he recovered for a brief moment.
Close. Too close. Very close. Extremely close.
Making effort of his strength, Ryke brought his still swinging blade and combined his adrenaline with that of what little momentum remained in an upwards diagonal slash, battering his assailant's blade away, being careful to keep his over-extended arms from contact with a one-way ticket to prosthetics. The strike was strong even if it was not the most conventional nor the most desirable; Ryke's counter to this woman's ingenuity was the power behind his strikes. All that was required in return, however was a quick finish to the duel; Ataru and heavy attacks would see him wore out soon enough. Ryke knew he was up to the task; the Republic had gone on the defensive today, but the Chancellor's security had been accomplished in the end. This Sith would not play any games with Ryke's combat focus, nor would her inadequate taunting slow him down further.
Maintain patience, Ryke! Don't get eager for the finishing move. One of the others will be here soon enough to help you finish the job anyhow.
Backing off a few inches, Ryke spun the silver unadorned hilt of the lightsaber in his hand a few times to get a feeling of familiarity returning before placing the center of his mind back in the game and attacking once again, alternating between side swipes and quick parries. It appeared as if Ryke was going to foolishly continue with the same pattern, but instead he slashed downwards from above, bringing the yellow blade down over his head like a ship going into hyperspace to batter away a parry from the Sith aimed at protecting her midsection. His adrenaline still coursing, Ryke used the quick advantage battered away the parry before lunging forward and slugging a heavy fist for her stomach. However, instead of following through, he opened his palm upwards and released an uneven blast of raw telekinetic force energy.
|
|
|
|
|
sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
145 likes
|
|
last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Dec 15, 2010 3:44:57 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Dec 15, 2010 3:44:57 GMT -5
The narrow confines of the hallway proved to be both a blessing and curse. Her opponent was quite obviously a practicioner of Ataru, and not an unskilled one at that, but the constraints of space prevented him from utilizing the form to its full extent. Instead, Shii-cho was the form being used. She could handle that.
On the other hand, this battle wasn't about victory. It was about escape. And the corridor made it difficult for her to get around him. The clock was ticking down.
Again and again their sabers clashed. Suddenly he came in for an overhead strike, and she parried before stepping back out of his strike zone. This wasn't going to work forever. There were only so many more steps back she could take. He released one hand from his saber, trying to punch her in the stomach.
She held onto her saber with her left hand, and met his punch with one of her own from her right. That was her strong arm. Her battering ram. Neck-breaker.
She focused, felt the Force gathering near her fist. Two telekinetic blasts collided. But unlike his chaotic, uneven blast, hers was focused and concentrated, splitting his down the middle, like an axe cleaving through a piece of firewood. A loud crack at the point of impact, followed by a gush of wind as the two halves of traveled around her. Hands collided, knuckles of steel meeting palm of flesh and cartilage.
|
|
|
|
|
Kuhblam
I've got two guns, one for each of ya'.
|
|
last online Sept 7, 2013 15:30:01 GMT -5
Guardian
|
|
|
Dec 28, 2010 11:45:08 GMT -5
Post by Kuhblam on Dec 28, 2010 11:45:08 GMT -5
As the fist traveled for the woman's stomach, Ryke's eyes widened up a bit considerably as a robotic hand of sturdy durasteel came to meet him. As he released pure, raw telekinetic energy, she too responded with an attack of her own. However, while his was simply powerful, Ryke could feel her instead focusing its shape rather than channeling all of her effort into the sheer magnitude of the attack.
Not good.
As his hand collided with the cyborg's own, Ryke felt something give way in his hand as it continued to travel forward. A snap, followed by blood and winces of pain. It might have a good idea to remember she had the arm of a robot wookie. His face winced as both sides released a wave of telekinesis. His brute cleaver met her fine-point foil, and as both blasts washed over each other, Ryke felt his attack halved somewhat to his left side. What remained of his assailant's weakened blast hit like a tidal wave over his left shoulder, spinning him up in a revolution as he felt his body glide backwards. The pain from his hand was immense, but right now Ryke had to concentrate. Using his sense of balance, Ryke let the momentum carry him as he landed on his feet sliding backwards across the permacrete. His good hand slid ahead of him to keep balance, and Virgil finally came to his stop.
His eyes remained fixated on his crushed right hand for a few seconds. The gauntlet had become somewhat crumpled, and blood had stained the palm of the synth-leather comprising its under-layer. A heavy amount of pain radiated from his knuckles specifically, and Ryke knew he had broken something or some things, more like it. He quickly realized his mistake, however; he'd hadn't paused to look wherever that Sith piece of nerf had gone. His good hand called forth his lightsaber, which was laying off to the side a good ways. A weakened telekinetic grip tore it away from the ground and into his hand, and the burning yellow blade burned forth once more.
Where'd you go?
|
|
|
|
|
sparrow
The Night is Dark and Full of Onions
2,999 posts
145 likes
|
|
last online Dec 26, 2019 3:11:06 GMT -5
Master
|
|
|
Jan 1, 2011 16:31:50 GMT -5
Post by sparrow on Jan 1, 2011 16:31:50 GMT -5
(( unless someone else has something they need their character to do, let's wrap this up, shall we? ))
There was the sound of crunching cartilage, and Zarene could feel the shockwaves from the impact travel in her shoulder where flesh connected with machine as they both were thrown backwards. Quickly, she dug in her heels to stop her slide. She had dropped her lightsaber, the weapon having been swept away in the waves of his telekinetic attack as it had swept around her.
But there was her opening. As he struggled to regain his balance, she ran, swiftly sidestepping around him, taking advantage of his moment of distraction. Freedom. Just a little longer and she would away from this cursed planet.
Her eyes widened as she saw the burning yellow lightsaber blade flew through the air towards her on its way back to its master, spinning as it flew, covering the width of the hallway. She threw herself to the side of the hallway against the wall, as the burning tip carved through her armor, cutting a horizontal red line across her chest.
As pain shot through her body, she fell to the ground with a grunt. But pain quickly gave way to anger. Never mind escaping, she was going to kill him first. There was blood in her mouth. She had bit her tongue as she fell. He was going to pay for that! She was going to blast him apart into little tiny pieces. And then blast those pieces into tinier pieces, and then...
She coughed up a few bloody droplets on the ground and swung her arm back, the metal plates on the big of her arm folding backwards to reveal the rocket launcher. But in her momentary delirium the step flew wide, exploding on the ceiling between them, sending a shower of concrete and rubble raining down, blocking off the hallway between them.
She looked down at her chest as her rage subsided and sanity returned. The cut was about half a foot long, a horizontal line right above her breasts, just below the collarbone. She breathed a sigh of relief. Had she been off by an inch she would have been killed, but as it was, it was just a flesh wound. A very painful flesh wound.
Grabbing a kolto patch for her belt pouch, she ripped it open with her teeth and pressed it against the cut, hoping that it wouldn't scar. Gabriella was going to have some very embarrassing questions for her when she got back if it did.
Her thoughts returned to escape. The Jedi was no doubt still quite alive behind that pile of rubble, and it would only be a matter of time before he broke through. Above her, Republic troops would certainly still be working to find the assassin and block off her escape. There was no time waste. She wiped the blood from her mouth with her sleeve and headed towards the exit.
---------
Sergeant Howal had been a member of the Druckenwell Security Forces for many years, but he had never seen anything approaching what had happened today. Burning buildings, wounded civilians fleeing the stadium. And there were reports that at least one of the assassins was still on the loose.
He had no idea what he would do if he actually came face to face with the assassin. He wasn't even sure what he, she, or it looked like. The reports had been a bit sketchy about that. All he knew to do right now was man the checkpoint in this section of the perimeter.
There were far too many civilians trying to pass through, each seemingly with wounds worse than the last, for them to do much more than weapons scan before sending them on, directing them to the paramedics. Two men carrying a woman on a stretcher. One of her legs seemed to have been blasted off. Poor thing. Scan turned up clean. He waved them through, directing two of his men to take the stretcher while pointing them toward the direction of the paramedics. A boy whose arm was bloodied and mangled. He was about the same age as his son. A young woman with burns on her face, walking with a limp. She seemed to be missing an arm. An older man, with a bloody gash on his forehead...
He checked the scanner. Clean. One of his men went to help the old man with bandages to help control the bleeding. Howal shook his head. Too many wounded, not enough medics. What a mess.
"Sergeant, Officer Coulin found something. He thinks you should see it." Coulin was one of the men on patrol in the area around the stadium, trying to find any signs of the assassin. "Well, what is it?" Howal asked. Coulin stepped forward, dumping the contents of a bag in front of them, containing what appeared to be a pair of broken blasters and the burnt remains of what appeared to have once been a droid arm. "Found these in an alleyway a block that way."
|
|
|
|