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Ary the Grey

Aryian vs Scubby [Judge: Travis]

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Setting: Taris, Northern hemisphere, rural environment with suburban ruins.

 

fallout3billboard.jpg

 

There are piles of junk strewn about as plants have fought to retake the land, broken speeders and random parts litter the area. The scene is riddled with small hills, a land untempered once more though the sands of the hourglass. A hand full of small houses still stand in what looks to be the failings of a small village, though the walls and ceilings crumble and have visible holes. Nobody lives in abandoned wastelands like these except for criminals trying to hide from the law, and the only people who come here willingly are usually the people looking for said criminals.

 

Aryian is carrying his two traditional locking silver lightsabers, his sky blue electrum lightsaber, and his orange bladed light-tonfas, his standard loadout. He is clad as is described in his character sheet, robes covering his battle armor, though his armored gloves are showing. The armor does not include a helmet. Green will the font color used for our duel.

 

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Aryian calmly surveyed the scene. If there was something here to be found, he would find it. More likely than not, it was just another wild goose chase set up by Faust, the insane mastermind that had set him up. Faust would know that Aryian's first instinct would be to hunt him down and bring the truth to light, the latter of which would obviously be more difficult but more important. The group of pirates that had slaughtered the civilians Aryian supposedly massacred once had a hideout here according to some intel he'd hunted down on the underground Holonet channels, and with any luck he'd find a lead to their current whereabouts before any bounty hunters or law officials tracked him down. He'd been discreet on the holonet, erasing his footprints, but he was well known enough in the Order and in public eye that tracking him wouldn't be terribly difficult to those determined to do so.

 

And so, here he was. The place stank. Taris itself stank as a whole, the toxic wasteland never having been fully rebuilt since it was razed centuries ago, but this place in particular just smelled heavily of earthen odors and decay. The Master would also need to be quick in his findings, or risk attracting unwanted attention from the Rakghouls, a savage species created from an ancient Sith plague. Leaving his speeder bike behind, he gave his gear a once over before trudging into the ruins, senses tuned to the Force to help aid him in finding anything he might find useful.

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If your story is that of the good guy I will revert to my original nature.

 

http://forums.jedi.net/phpBB2/viewtopic.php?t=43541

 

I will be equipped as per my character sheet as well.

 

Story and positioning post as you wanted the first post. Lets have some fun

 

 

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The lone Imperial Special Operations trooper wasn't sure why he had been sent to this murky ruin. Some decrepit, stinking planet far from any tactical or commercial areas of any description. A relic of a war from a bygone era. A soldier of his merit might as well have been sent to Tatooine, it amounted to the same curse. But here he was, orders coming in from the very top. He didn't know who or why but he had been ordered here loaded for the fight of his life but here he was. His helmet filtering out the worst of the stink, this particular area wasn't so bad but his air well filtered yet still with a trace of corruption.

 

Stalking through the terrain his armour no longer white but covered in Swamp filth to better camouflage him. The dirtied Power-Suit with imbedded Ysalamiri capsule would keep him hidden from the force as well as visual. Suddenly the AI attached to Spy's Delight became active. Motion detected, someone was nearby. His senses sharpening Jazce got low to the ground. Inching forward he considered his next move. He didn't want to encounter any Rakghouls but according to his HUD and suit sensors it wasn't the right profile. Human perhaps He doubted anyone would be here just at random. Moving in to the ruins of a tower he shifted around a puddle of slime, it was probably toxic. He didn't need that on his suit. Waiting he spied the target from afar. Using visual enhancers to identify his encounter. Human, male, older, dress... Distinctly Jedi. Concentrating on the face it was only moments before his AI sung out. Aryian Darkfire. Jedi Master. Enemy to the Empire. This was it. This was his mission. The man had returned to the scene of his crime.

 

In a move completely opposite all his training and instinct he rose. Stepping forward. His voice enhanced by the suit. It wasn't normal to challenge a Jedi openly. It was in fact considered suicide by most of his brethren. But Jazce wasn't like them. He didn't just blindly follow orders then even more blindly fire. He had his own sense of Honour. He wouldn't kill this Jedi from the shadows. Either way the terrain wasn't suited to him. Too much stuff for the Jedi to throw at him. His only chance was to close to hand-to-hand.

 

"Jedi Darkfire. You are a traitor to the Empire and will surrender immediately or I will face the Emperor's Justice. Lay down your arms and I promise you a swift and painless end."

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The Jedi Master's eyes scanned the debris for what seemed like an eternity, though in reality only a few minutes had passed. He was getting anxious, hasty, much unlike a Jedi of his caliber should have been. Faust had unsettled him, and did a damn good job at it. Suddenly, Aryian froze. Something didn't feel right. It wasn't his Force senses that tipped him off for the most part, it was just common sense. The place was far too quiet. He felt nothing, and still the hairs on the back of his neck raised, and he could feel his heart beginning to pound, adrenaline pumping through his veins. For a few minutes more he stood there, reaching out with the Force, trying to find something, anything, whether it was something he would have found useful, or more than likely, a trap left by the crafty blond Sith.

 

Finally, he shook himself loose of the feeling. Paranoia. That's all it was. He took a few steps more, studying a pile of old speeder scrap, when he nearly jumped at the voice that rang out across the area.

 

"Jedi Darkfire. You are a traitor to the Empire and will surrender immediately or face the Emperor's Justice. Lay down your arms and I promise you a swift and painless end."

 

Immediately his Force senses flared up and both light-tonfas were in his hands. Still...he sensed nothing. Saw nothing. But the voice was there, there had to be...of course. Aryian cursed under his breath as he realized what had set him off earlier, it was the bubble of an Ysalamir, nearly impossible to sense unless specifically trying to look for it, and even then nearly impossible to pinpoint. But he, or possibly they, were out there, and they meant business.

 

The Master almost chuckled to himself. Traitor to the Empire, was he? The Empire had backstabbed him more than once, with Faust being the latest on the list of sins committed against him and his family. He had once gone to the Emperor, trying to strike a deal that would leave him and his family neutral in the galactic conflicts, but almost right after the deal was struck, the Empire went back on their word. No, the Empire had betrayed him, but that was more along the lines of the punchline to a bad joke than anything else.

 

His thoughts spun rapidly, combat instincts kicking in as years of training were recalled with supercomputer accuracy to the forefront of his mind. He didn't have time to deal with this, especially if it was one of Faust's traps. Of course, it would probably be made clear shortly that he didn't have much of a choice in the matter. In that case, combat was the eventuality that would befall him. He couldn't see or sense his foe, which meant Aryian was at a disadvantage, but if they had an Ysalamir, it more than likely wasn't someone trained in the Force, rather someone trained to hunt them down. They had given away their general location by yelling at him, but he would still need to draw them into the open.

 

Aryian opened himself to the Force, allowing it to flow through his body as he shaped it, harnessing the familiar ancient energies like he had done a thousand times before. The visage of a second Aryian seemed to step from where he stood, leaving two identical men standing there, and then a third as he duplicated the technique. It was a useful trick bending light as he'd learned back in his time spent in the ranks of the Shadow Ops division of the Jedi, though he'd almost never had the chance to make it useful. And with his foe utilizing an Ysalamir, it was the only option he had left as he couldn't inject a true Force illusion into the thoughts of his opponents.

 

The real trick though, was whether or not the real Aryian Darkfire had stepped forward one of the times, or still remained in the middle. With a short nod to each other, the three Jedi spun in different directions and did the only thing a sane man would do in that situation: they ran. One ran towards one of the abandoned houses, another ran to dive for cover behind a nearby low hill, and the third rushed to find cover near a pile of speeder parts. Hopefully, whoever it was wasn't smart enough to pick up on the trick, because the phantoms were never perfect, merely made from light.

 

((1))

 

 

 

((Edit: If you do come up with a clever way of telling them apart, I never specified or hinted which ones were phantoms, so you may have control over which one was the real me. Otherwise, I'll reveal which one I had in mind in my next post. For fairness, I'm going to PM Travis with the one I choose so it can't be said I tried to switcheroo myself for my own benefit after the fact.))

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Special Operations were well trained in how their enemies fought. They knew the capabilities and tactics of the force user. Especially the Jedi force user, almost as well as they knew their own. Even so sometimes he still had his breath taken away on occasion. Like when his opponent, after minutes of silence split in to three. Jazce braced himself, a bolt of fear going through him. Command had promised the Ysalamir would keep the Jedi out of his head! It seemed they had been wrong. This would be a suicide mission if that was the case. But then, when they nodded and Jazce prepped for the worst, they ran. Splitting in to three different directions. Was it possible? Even with his tactically horrible move the Jedi still wasn't fully aware of his location.

 

For a moment the Stormtrooper was confused. If the Jedi was in his head he'd know where Jazce was so why run away? Unless... It was either some tactical move of untold brilliance on Darkfire's part of the Jedi really didn't know where he was and the illusions were physical not mental. That calmed him down. That was good. It spoke of an over-reliance on the force and not ones natural senses. He could use that to his advantage. He would have to. He was trained to leap on any weakness and in this fight he'd need every advantage he could get. He decided to go with a traditional attack. Four phases. But before them, reconnaissance. Hunkering back down he needed to use precious seconds to find his true target. He used the Spy's Delight to play back the last few seconds of activity from his helmet feed. Watching the now three targets he enhanced the visual. Looking for any differences. Only one was real. Only one could be. Somewhere in the illusion was an imperfection. Somewhere.

 

But where? This Jedi was clearly more powerful than others. He'd never seen Jedi form actual, perfect physical illusions before. The dynamics were far more complex than mental delusions. The little of force dynamics his instructors had managed to impart. But they weren't perfect. At least he hoped not. He enhanced his audio feed. He could hear a mouse fart at a hundred meters. He'd also see the puff of heat through his thermals. What he didn't hear was footsteps from two of the targets. A grin spread across his cool air-conditioned face. He enhanced the visual even more. Concentrating on the feet. Two of those targets didn't leave trace of passage. Suggesting no weight being transferred. Physics at play. They also lacked proper thermal readings for a person. In this damp environment it was even easier to tell than normal. He had his fakes. He had his target. Phase one. The Advance to Contact. He knew the Jedi would be draining his resources on those illusions. So he wasn't in a huge rush to get close but he also knew that he couldn't afford to wait or the Jedi could formulate a battle plan to counter his Ysalamir. Or worse. Escape.

 

He needed to get close. If he managed that, all the Jedi was, was an old man with a big stick.... Made out of light and energy and capable of slicing him to shreds with barely a hitch wielded by a man with vast stores of experience, almost inhuman physical conditioning and desperation onside. The same as him actually. Except he didn't have the fancy sword and wasn't covered in wrinkles. But how to do it? Random blaster fire wouldn't work. The Jedi would find a way to reflect one of those shots back at him and his armour was only powered, not powerful. It gave him access to tools far beyond the regular soldier. With his AI linked to the Spy's Delight it was a formidable weapon. Advanced electronics, supplemented physical capabilities, increased sensory capacity, weapon co-ordination and last but certainly not the least an air conditioner. To name a few anyway. The ability to fight on the field from a position that was not only a cool and well padded environment but also an unrivalled fighting platform was true civilisation. It wasn't resistant to lightsabers though. Some of his weapons were but his Armour was flawed in that aspect. He'd have to fix it. Maybe talk to the CQ about getting some better materials. He took a moment to formulate a plan. Another valuable few seconds out of those he'd already taken. He needed to move fast or the Jedi would have the initiative. Using the in-built head scratcher.. Just because he could he began judging the distance between him and his target. He looked at his own position and found a suitable spot, planting his ARC-9965 carefully adjusting and supporting the position. Giving it a small test before he pushed back from his position, moving till he was below visual before he started moving properly.

 

Moving as low and as quietly as possible considering what he was stalking through, keeping his steps uneven from length, to weight to speed he activated his link to the rifle, and also to some of his grenades. He prepared both his pistols and loosened his vibroblade in its sheath. It was time to see what two Master's of their respective arts could do. The Jedi would have enhanced senses but Jazce hoped his own natural stealth plus the environment would shield him. Either way his next move would definitely help. He took a flash grenade out even as he drew his Charric and then sent the signal. Phase two, the firefight. Back at his old position the rifle opened up on the pile of speeder parts, linked to his helmet. On a fixed line the only difference between shots was the slight jump and shake of the position. It was only a matter of time before it degraded and fell. Irrelevant. The rifle was only going to be useful in the first few seconds as a distraction. Jazce rose instantly, the noise of the blaster fire hopefully covering anything he made as moved forward far louder than before, lobbing the flash in to the pile, it was linked to his AI, his suit would shield him from the detonation as it would control the blast pattern. He was still a little distance off. Only having covered maybe a quarter of the distance between the two of them but it was well within range, raising the Charric he unleashed a hail of fire from his new position, he'd moved around into an L. With any luck his rifle would have distracted the Jedi long enough for Jazce to get the jump.

 

((1))

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((Bravo. I was going to go for the hill, but that was almost exactly the method I was thinking you'd use to discover which one was real. As such, I'll hold true to my end of the deal.))

 

Seconds ticked by, and still Aryian's mind raced as he crouched in a half-kneel behind the scrap pile. It didn't matter anymore whether or not this was a trap, the fact was that someone was out to get him. Briefly, the thought of negotiating passed through his mind, but that would cost him valuable time. Blaster fire began to impact his position, and he knew negotiation was out the window. Also, that whoever was out there had probably dealt with Force Users before and was smart enough to see through the Master's deception. He needed to move, and fast. There was more cover further behind his original position, and his body reacted faster than his mind could think as combat training and Force instincts took hold. Shielding his side hastily through the Force he stood onto a zig zag sprint, hastily making for his cover. Not a few steps into his run, light shone past him, as if someone had summoned a small star directly to his rear. His opponent was crafty, all right, attempting to further disable his prey before moving in for the kill. Thankfully Aryian was already facing away from the position and his loss of vision was minimal at best, his mad dash for new cover unhindered.

 

That was when a blast caught him in the right shoulder, causing him to stumble as his neck tingled with a small electrical shock. Immediately he regained his footing, diving behind the frame of a medium-sized upturned speeder. Several blue blasts had shot past him, impacting the scenery past him. A Charric. That was the only thing Aryian knew of that had blue bolts like that, and they carried a kinetic punch with an electrical shock. Thankfully, his armor held from the blast, though there was likely a hole in the shoulder of his robes now, and the insulated bodyglove had redirected most of the electrical shock through his armor and into the ground. Charric bolts, though, were something that experienced Jedi knew they couldn't block with a lightsaber, as there was an incredibly short list of what a lightsaber couldn't deal with.

 

As he regained his footing in another kneeling crouch, his thoughts continued to race, processing information like a machine, his many hours of combat experience talking to him almost as the Force did. Something nagged in the back of his mind, the fact that whoever was shooting a blaster at his position hadn't bothered to try and shoot at him as he ran. Immediately it clicked in his head, as he could feel the area and there was no presence, ysalamir or otherwise. There weren't two people attacking him, there was only one, and the distraction was a good one. His opponent knew how to use ysalamir, but now the gig was up.

 

The Force drew towards the Master almost violently as large telekinetic tendrils wrapped around the speeder frame, cradling it before lifting it and hurling it in the direction of where the charric blasts originated from. With a burst of speed, Aryian was right behind it, light-tonfas ignited, using it as a shield for his charge. His foe had made the mistake of giving up his position, and now the real game was afoot. Aryian had trained on Myrkr before specifically for encounters like this, and though it was his first true test of his skills, he was confident and more than ready. The real question was how his opponent would fare in melee combat against a Master of the lightsaber arts.

 

((2))

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As he pushed forward through the rough terrain his AI and HUD continued to process his movements and surrounds, occasionally tactical information would pop up. Not something anyone untrained in how to use his equipment would be able to process and sometimes even he had trouble but his training and discipline held and it paid off. One shot had been able to land though the AI judged that no penetration had occurred. He'd just have to get back on top of the initiative horse and keep pushing hard. If he allowed the Jedi room to breathe this situation would turn nasty fast. He needed to readjust his tactics, stumbling slightly on the rough ground he halted and took a knee. Continuing to maintain Charric fire at his opponent but cutting away the rifle fire as the distraction was now all but useless and as he closed it was possible he could get caught in the fire, he did keep his AI monitoring the rifle's feed though for any opportunity to conduct effect fire. Even as he set the neural mode a thought occurred to him.

 

Just as a thought occurred to his opponent it seemed. A speeder rising up and being flung with lethal force at his position. The normal eye could have missed the micro-movements as the force took hold of the craft and lifted it. That was all that kept him alive. Jazce reacted instantly, diving towards the engagement's center. The speed and power of his movements great augmented by his suit. Had it not been for that he'd probably have been a smear. As it was his suit was too bulky to do a roll and he didn't want to risk damaging his Ysalamir pod he had to land on his front, hard to come up clean so instead Jazce sprawled on the ground some meters to his left. Losing valuable time in having to rise and reorientate himself to the Jedi from the ground instead of a role. Just in time to see the old man close with a weapon in each hand. His reaction was instantaneous and more than a little panicked. Those weapons would slice him like a Japanese Katana through warmed up butter except without the mess. Despite his air-condition he broke in to a sweat. He'd lost the initiative and now had to react to the Jedi's movements.

 

Releasing his Charric immediately both his hands swung to his equipment. One ripping his vibroblade from its sheath and swinging it around in to a guard position. Against two weapons he'd have to keep his distance. The other pulling a flash grenade from his belt, activating it to detonate on impact and throwing it a meter to his front in one smooth, well trained motion. His speed enhanced by his armour he prepared to fight the Jedi even as the explosive detonated his AI having been linked to it shut down his helmet's sensory feed. Enclosing him for the milli-seconds of detonation in a black bubble of silence. Deadly but for the brilliant light and epic bang that lit up the outside world at his feet. Upon everything brightening again as the flash shorted out the AI's sensors and the dampening ended, returning him to a world ringing from the explosion of his explosive, his AI needed to reboot and diagnose itself but thankfully it didn't control the powered state of his suit otherwise he'd have been in a world of hurt. So it was just him against the Jedi now. He needed to close the gap and enclose the Jedi in the bubble of non-force as quickly as possible. Letting loose an Imperial Battlecry he charged. Vibroblade now held in an aggressive stance.

 

((2))

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((Firstly, apologies if I didn't understand the first grenade in the first round of posts was in fact a flash-bang grenade, I was kind of confused and decided to simply treat it as described, a flash grenade. If it was indeed a flash-bang, just consider his hearing impaired, but it wouldn't likely slow him down that much. Now, TO THE DUEL!))

 

Aryian's eyes were always quick to catch things. They had to, after all, especially when he found himself in all kinds of trouble that required him to act immediately and make split-second decisions. As such, he saw the grenade. The Force was still with him as he slowed, shielding his eyes at the same time as the grenade was tossed. The sound was deafening, rocking him to his core and making his ears hurt. But pain was temporary, victory was forever. That was one of the mantras he'd lived by. Ringing was the only thing he heard as his head swiveled back towards his target and he continued his advance. A faint but fading afterimage was burned into his retinas, not nearly as bad as it could have been had he not shielded his eyes.

 

And then the Force left him. It was like someone slinging a bucket of ice water on him, his extra senses left him. The Force was still there, but it was...silent. The feeling wasn't unfamiliar, as he'd trained on Myrkr specifically for enemies trying to edge out Force users with Ysalamir, but every time it happened it was fresh and unnerving. Still, Aryian was prepared, and his charge remained unbroken. His opponent had run out of tricks, and was now at Aryian's mercy, as long as the Master stuck to his practiced styles.

 

Soresu was widely known as a defensive style, but few knew it could also be reversed for the same principle that made it so and easily be turned into a lethal one for someone unprepared. Its motions and movements were designed to guard and fight at extreme proximity with precision and speed, and as his enemy only had one vibrosword, against Aryian's tonfas it would be a rough fight for him, regardless of the fact that the Master didn't have the Force to help predict his foe's movement and guide him. He still had his training and combat instinct to rely on, and with or without the Force he was still among the upper echelons of swordsmen in the galaxy.

 

Orange blades raged hard and fast, as they beat upon the Imperial aggressor like a drum.

 

((3))

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((That first one was a little ambiguous so I made sure to avoid possible confusion this time mate. Its all good.))

 

Jazce swore as the flash-bang didn't incapacitate his opponent. That was bad. He had been relying on the Jedi being too thoroughly disorientated by the bang to put up a good fight. Without his AI assistance he was far more vulnerable than he liked going in to a fight against a Jedi. But he was a Stormtrooper of the Imperial 501st Legion. One of the Elite of the Elite. He would prevail against this Jedi traitor and bring his corpse before the Emperor or die trying. The discipline his Regiment was legendary for held firm against the charge of one of the most fearsome Warriors the galaxy had ever known.

 

Moving to the defensive his first reaction was to try and keep the Jedi at bay. Using his weapon's superior reach and mechanically enhanced speed and strength to repel the ferocious attack. But as anticipated even forceless the Jedi was still a superior swordsman. It was only a few instants before his outer layer of armour was covered in slashes and burns and sweat was rolling freely across his face at the pain of some of the deeper cuts. He needed to react. He stumbled to his side, a deeper score appearing in his chest. Suppressing a curse at the flash of pain he dodged back out of reach of the twin tonfa sabers for an instant. AI deficient he had no clear alternatives. But one very risky one.

 

Fast as lightning he slapped his hand down on the Spy's Delight. Activating the blaster rifle for one last burst. Without the AI link or the Eveready nearby it couldn't do much else. Highly inaccurate but loud and bright and just as deadly if it got close enough. By his calculations they weren't in the lethal radius but they would be distracting at the least. An instant later he was charging. Using his vibrosword to batter one of the tonfas he released after an instant of impact. Enough to push it slightly away and give him the opening he needed, Continuing his charge forward he ignored the pain as the other cut in to him. Reaching out he pulled the Jedi close, his discipline pushing through the agony of the orange blade carving through his flesh his elbow came around, enhanced speed and strength beyond that of any normal being. The power and speed of a war droid with the accuracy of one of the best hand-to-hand fighters outside of the Echani. That deadly instrument of short ranged combat came around aiming to contact the base of the Jedi's neck. It was Victory or Death. Maybe even Victory and Death.

 

 

((3 - Good Luck old bean))

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((As my Travis account does not have RP access, I posted this with my Adenna one.))

 

Aryian Darkfire vs Jazce Leife

 

Well, after a grueling, close matched round of "Best of 7," that was tied 3-3, the final coin toss went to-----

 

 

Okay, I am kidding, no coins were involved in this ruling. This was an interesting read by two people with military backgrounds, both IC'ly and OOC'ly. Fun stuff, but enough fluff from me, to the ruling.

 

I saw the fight as staring off strongly in Scubby's favor after an imaginative opening play by Aryian that was quickly and very logically countered by Scubby. Using illusions is a fun and potentially devastating move, but they usually are best when coupled with some sort of attack. That Aryian choose to retreat meant that he lost the initiative for the first round and had to play catchup on round two. Conversely, Scubby quickly figured out the weakness of such illusions. He then set up a moderately effective distraction of his own and went on the offensive immediately with ranged weaponry that were not easily countered by lightsabers (my understanding from reading is that, while charrics can't be deflected and sent elsewhere, they could be blocked by lightsabers). Ranged is good when fighting Force users.

 

In the second round, things went a little more evenly. Aryian took a minor hit but went on the offensive. He utilized a cover attack (the thrown speeder) to help distract his opponent and allow him to reposition himself into an advantageous position for the third round. Scubby in this, began to falter. Even in his own words, "he'd lost the initiative." His use of a flashbang to blunt Aryian's charge was an interesting move, but it also left him slightly weakened due to the loss of his AI.

 

The final round is where it came down to the deciding factor. In this round, Aryian choose to take only a minor hit from the flashbang. While that in and of itself is not at all bad, I do think he underplayed the cumulative effect of both the flashbang and the loss of the Force combined into one. Nonetheless, he did get into lightsaber (or rather, lighttonfas) range and that is where a Jedi is most deadly. Scubby, for his part, was pretty gung ho about going melee against a double lightsaber wielding guy with naught but a single vibroblade. I definitely give him points for having big kahunas. The attempt to use the blaster rifle as a distraction didn't quite work. In the first post, it appears that his target is the pile of rubble that Aryian was hiding behind. It was effective in the second round, but that was before Aryian charged at him and brought the action away from the pile. Therefore, any shots the rifle would have had would be well away from them and, since Aryian was already deafened by the flashbang, not even the sound of blaster fire would phase him. Plus, by Scubby's own words, his armor "wasn't resistant to lightsabers." Scubby wrote multiple times getting hit with lightsaber marks, but if his armor wasn't really resistant to lightsabers, it would do tremendous damage.

 

When fighting against Force users as a non-Force user, from what I have seen in canon and on this site, the best options are either wide area effect weapons (such as sonics, flamethrowers, or flechettes) or explosives (such as rockets or grenade launchers). The worst option is letting your lightsaber wielding opponent get in close because, Force or not, those glowing sticks are hard to stop without some serious anti-lightsaber armor.

 

Both sides fought with honor and respect for each other, and that is something that makes reading this far more enjoyable to me. Neither tossed out snide IC remarks about the other character and neither dismissed the actions of their opponent. I wasn't privy to any PM conversations between them, but it appears from their posts here that they handled themselves like gentlemen and made this a fun duel to read.

 

Ultimately, I must hand the victory over to Aryian, though with the frenzy of Jazce's attack, he is not going to emerge unscathed. He would suffer at least one or two nasty cuts from the vibroblade and I still think that blaster rifle hit in Round Two would inflict some damage on him.

 

Victory goes to Aryian Darkfire.

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Aryian's drive fueled him. He may have been cut off from the Force, but his passions still drove him, his experience and delight at the art of the lightsaber demonstrated just how focused and dedicated he was. Small warm trickles of blood ran down his earlobes, small droplets being flung off as he spun and wove with the movements of his opponent, his hearing completely shot, but his eyes reading his foe's moves expertly. These two men were masters of their respective crafts, and it showed as the Imperial held his own, yielding small hits in order to open Aryian up for a larger blow.

 

Blaster bolts whizzed past their location, but the Master only noted them in passing, he couldn't hear them and he certainly couldn't do anything about them now, except for maybe turn his opponent so as to use him for a living shield. But then, the Master saw his opening, and in his years of experience as a swordsman, almost innately predicted what was about to happen, and he went with it. His right blade was batted aside and the Imperial swung in close, aiming to behead the Jedi. And for a moment, Aryian wasn't sure whether or not that would actually come to be. In a man that normally dealt with certainties, he took the only gamble he had left.

 

An instant later, the vibroblade stopped on Aryian's skin, barely cutting almost half a centimeter deep, but stopped solidly. For a moment the two combatants locked gazes, and it must have dawned on the Imperial what had happened, what exactly he'd opened himself up to.

 

Aryian's left tonfa had spun as they moved in close, stabbing deep into the canister slung across Jazce's back, the only logical space that could contain the ysalamir on the man's person. It penetrated flawlessly, cauterizing and killing the lizard-like creature instantly. The Force rushed back to Aryian, and it was all he could to throw up a barrier in an instant, telekinetically grabbing the vibroblade before it could behead the Master. In that instant, in the realization that followed, they both knew it was over.

 

End game.

 

Aryian pulled his light tonfa back around and blasted the Imperial back with the Force, using telekinesis to hold him on the ground as he slowly walked up, still aching from the fight. His ears were bleeding, his neck was cut and his armor had been sundered fairly well, not to mention a fairly large bruise forming on his shoulder where he'd taken the charric round to the back. But after all that, he'd come out the victor. He couldn't even hear his own words as he spoke, but he knew his opponent could, and the meaning behind them rang true with the warrior's spirit.

 

"Tell Faust...I'm coming for him."

 

With a minor Force blast, Aryian bounced the Imperial's head off the ground, hard enough to knock him unconscious. The man was skilled, and Aryian respected him for it, if times were different they might have very well been sharing drinks in a bar after a successful battle. And it was out of this respect that the Master didn't kill him, instead leaving him in a forced healing trance. Over a few hours, the Imperial would wake and find himself largely unscathed, minus a few well-healed scars.

 

Aryian turned, slowly making his way over to his speeder and leaving, the dust in the wind the only trail left in the wake of the titanic struggle.

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