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QR-23 v. Rruror'rur'rr. JUDGE: Jaina

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((Pheristroch, I will use my first post to help set up some of the scene, feel free to add more to it in your post, and introduce Rruror’rur’rr. Feel free to follow with a set up post or to jump right into fighting with an attack of some sort. This will be a 3 round, plus intro, duel. After we finish our third posts, Jaina will rule on who the victor is. The winner will get to post the conclusion of the duel.))


LOCATION: Ruins of Ziost, specifically a floating hulk (core section) of the destroyed Death Star floating in orbit.


The blinding rays of the nearest star found their ways through the numerous cracks and fissures that made up the floating hulk of what could only be a chunk of the innermost section core of the once infamously infallible Death Star. Somehow, in the destruction of the massive war machine, this piece had survived. Even more surprising was the fact that despite the air being thin, somewhere out of sight, at least one atmospheric convertor still churned away as it worked to provide life giving atmosphere to the section only to have it whisked away only a little slower than it could produce the air.


The only reason that an organic being could survive aboard such a hulking piece of constructed debris were the numerous fires that flashed out from grates in the floors and walls of the desecrated hallway where an oddity now stood. A weak heat radiated throughout the structure that had now become a den to several dozen severely inbred rats that had taken to surviving by gnawing on exposed wiring and eating their fallen kin.


Looking around, just inside this side of what could only be a strange amalgamation of death star leaked fluids, the cold of space, and ‘the force’ that formed the nearly invisible bubble that kept the blasted away opening of the walkway from being absorbed by the vacuum of space on the other side, stood a being that was completely out of place.


Swathed from head to foot in sandy flowing robes and skin tight wrappings stood the being known as Rruror’rur’rr the feared Tusken Raider who had been abducted by demons and had lived to fight his way back to his ancestral homeland. Both blessed and cursed; blessed by the ancestors to have found a new mount after the death of his bantha; cursed by his own as his every step reeked of betrayal to their ancient and sacred oaths to their homeworld. He was led by the invisible voices of his ancestors. Following their bidding had taken him far and wide, most recently to this floating wreckage; a testament to the foolishness of the technology dependent demons who had once sought to rule his home.


As the gravity generators somewhere in this section of the death star whined their lament of never-ending work to the soundlessness of space, the entire chunk of floating alloys, metals, and man-made blasphemy shifted ever so slightly. Technology continued to fail those who rely upon it he thought to himself as he steadied himself, with one foot on what had once been the well-polished walkway of the hallway he now stood at the end of, and his other foot braced against the wall, complete with its unevenness where electrical panels still occasionally sparked and trash chutes led to who knew where and hallways the may or may not jut off to space or other portions of the wreckage presented pitfalls of the bone-breaking variety.


Through his reflective goggles, Rruror’rur’rr stared down the hallway. All that he could see were a few of the local rodents fighting over what could only be a bit of one of their deceased brethren. Slowly he exhaled and then drew in a breath of the stale weak air, allowing his mind to heed the call of his ancestors. They had brought him here, after all. Somewhere, the Tusken knew, within this hulking monument to the failure of the demons was yet another demon. A demon that he was destined to destroy.


With his aged slugthrower slung across his shoulders and his bandolier neatly wrapped about his chest, he hefted his gaderffi from the loop it usually hung in, grasping it in both hands as he stalked forward in a low crouch. His ears were attuned to anything out of the ordinary as he reached out with all his senses to seek the demon aboard, awaiting the ancestors’ guidance as he moved forward silent step by silent step down the tilting hallway.

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ALERT: Atmospheric shift. Increase in CO2 levels by .1% over 327 seconds. Periodic temperature shifts in the .01 degree range detected, creating an slight but upward trend. Considering size of atmospheric bubble, near lack of lifeforms (disregarding vermin already accounted for), and condition of remaining convertors, this is indicative of the introduction of a moderately sized carbon based life.


Conclusion: The tusken is here.


Query looked up. Multiwave visual sensors picked up the fading heat trails of the rats hiding in the wreckage. Sensors originally meant for medical diagnose and monitoring, sensitive enough to see to the needs of thousands of species, now turned to detecting Query's stalker.


Normally he would not devote so much processing power to sensory input and analysis, but the increasingly unavoidable prospect of combat made him...wary.


Tuskens are warriors by culture, proficient in both longarm and close-range combat. I am precise, but lack combat training. Tuskens are practiced fighters. My heuristic processors allow me to learn new skills as necessary for unusual situations, but it is unlikely the tusken will give me sufficient time to adapt to him. He will likely be armed with both long range and melee weaponry. I am currently armed with a laser scalpel.


...Solution formulated.


Query drew out his laser scalpel and powered it on, the tiny blade gleaming and throwing neon green reflections across his dark gray chassis.


The room he was in may have once been a storage compartment, or perhaps living quarters. The rear end of the room had torn away during the titanic blast that shredded the battle station, leaving nothing but thin atmosphere follower by empty space. The half Query stood on was empty, whatever furniture originally here long since drifted away.


Query moved to the edge of the door leading into the hallway and clung to the door frame with one pincered hand, laser scalpel ready in the other. Devoting more processing power to analyzing the feed from the infrared spectrum of his photoreceptors, he waited for the inevitable heatbloom that would precede the tusken's approach.


Query would wait until he could see the tusken's breath. Then he would strike.

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There it was. That accursed abomination. A man of metal. Not even a man, a shadow of a man not worthy of even drawing true breath. Rruror’rur’rr had quickly found his prey as he had stalked down the hallway, carefully navigating the odd gravitational effects of the hulking wreckage being turned ever so slightly off angle.


The droid seemed to be simply standing and waiting. It does not even know how to fight he smiled to himself beneath his mouthpiece, as he hefted his gaderffi in one hand and leapt forward with a bellowing Tusken war cry once he was within range of the abomination.


With the skills and knowhow of a thousand ambushes, Rruror’rur’rr’s gaderffi was raised high as he leapt, both hands clutching the more spearlike end so that he could put all the force that he was able to into the blow; hoping to drive the spiked more club-like portion of the weapon deep into the mechanized demon’s chest.


It was true that he did not know what lay beneath the droid in the tilted room that it was partially obscured in; but the Tusken was not worried. Anywhere the droid could be he could survive just as easily. Rruror’rur’rr hoped to use the full force of his momentum to drive his gaderffi into the droid, knocking it back and hopefully out.



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Heatbloom detected


Query watched, still in way only a machine could achieve, as the taken approached.


Sound negligible


This tusken was a skilled stalker if his footfalls could not be detected by Query's auditory sensors. As he inched nearer and nearer, Query analyzed his body movements for any sign of past injury or weak musculature...and found none.


With a speed Query had not factored into his combat solution, the tusken pounced. Swapping processing speed from sensory analysis to combat movement analysis, Query marked the tusken's target: Query's chestplate.


Potentially fatal damage. Improvise


Using his grip on the door, Query's servomotors whined with strain as he wrenched himself forward into a lunge, taking the thrust of the gaderffi in his unarmed shoulder as he thrust out the scalpel like a dagger thrust, aiming for the tusken's femoral artery.


The piercing sound of tearing metal alerted Query to the damage done to his left shoulder before his automated alerts gave him the news.


Primary shoulder servo damaged. Left arm functioning at 50% strength and dropping. Expected point of inoperability: 7 seconds

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Crash. Rruror’rur’rr’s attack had landed just as he had hoped. Although the abomination had moved, his heavy weighted gaderffi had driven the spiked point of the hook-ended club portion of itself deep enough to do significant damage. He could even hear the mechanized monster’s internals whining at the invasion of foreign barbaric durasteel.


The things Rruror’rur’rr had not counted on, however, were twofold. First, he had not expected for his gaderffi to become wedged in the metal man’s body; but wedged it was, stuck fast the internal servos having pulled it fast into the damage he had wrought. This, combined with the droid’s movement …I should have known that the demon would respond at the last minute… had sent The Tusken tumbling rather gracelessly across the floor and wall of the gravitationally tilted battle zone. At least he had not tumbled into the hole below and had somehow managed to roll over the top of a sparking electrical conduit without getting zapped. The singed smell of his rough home-spun garb permeating the air, a telltale sign of how close a call that had been.


Rolling to a stop, his once-shoulder slung primitive slug thrower having slid down to near his elbow, the only thing that kept him from landing completely on his back, Rruror’rur’rr attempted to stand, only at that point realizing that the small harmless looking item that the thing before him was wielding may have left a mark or two. The small technologically enhanced blade having wrought a gaping wound in his thigh that was even now beginning to ooze with blood and fluids; with any hope, the lack of actively spurting blood would mean that the scalpel had not done any imminently life-threatening damage. Gritting his teeth as blood began to soak through his finely sliced leg wrappings; he forced himself up as a cacophony of anger echoed through his mind and body. His ancestors would not stand for this. The abomination had shed the blood of one of their faithful and must now be put down.


With his dress/kilt like covering obscuring any sign of his injury, save for the small slit where the scalpel had easily seared through, Rruror’rur’rr leaned against the bulkhead as best he could to take some pressure of the wound in his leg which was starting to send its cries of pain to the enraged mind of the desert nomad. Allowing his two-point rifle strap to slide the rest of the way down his arm and into his seasoned hands was second nature. Having been raised in a kill or be killed universe where most anyone who was not of his kind sought his immediate death, The Tusken was well versed in combat.


Raising the rifle to his shoulder, Rruror’rur’rr had to take barely a second to aim down the scope as the stock of the rifle fell into its natural position taught against the robed man’s shoulder. His finger on the trigger, Rruror’rur’rr pulled the trigger.




Drop the bolt back and slam it forward.






Within mere seconds two cracks echoed up and down the mostly empty corridor, sending several of the rodents who had all but ignoring them up to this point scurrying for cover as their ears were assaulted by the ancient sounds of primer and powder acting in concert to hurtle. Two zersium coated rounds rocketed through the air, each one enveloped in a shroud of energy as it left the barrel of The Tusken’s aged but well maintained weapon.



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For a fraction of a second, Query considered the fact that he was not designed to calculate the interaction and reaction of large physical objects in motion. He had failed to take into account the tusken's change in momentum as a result of Query's thrust. Though, a beneficial side-effect was the tusken's loss of his primary melee weapon.


As his completed his brief thought, his processor trashed the previous combat solutions and considered the current situation. The tusken had regained his feet, but with difficulty. Query could not say for sure if he had successfully struck his femoral artery. But if the tusken was bleeding, then time was on Query's...


The tusken was drawing his longarm.


Adapt. Improvise.


Query twisted his body as he lurched towards the tusken, putting his damaged side first. The gaderffi threw off his balance and cost him a second as his legs shifted to keep him from tipping.




The first shot tore through the hydraulic line of his left arm.


Left arm completely inoperable


Inconvenient, but not-




Query stumbled to one knee as the second shot punched through his torso sheath. For a brief flash, Query's processors churned out garbled data. A split second later, damage reports flooded in.


Medical diagnostic computer connection lost. Central stabilizing column misaligned, potentially bent or cracked.


Compensating for balance...


Balance not achievable


Cannot win long range conflict. Close distance.


Query pushed off with both feet, launching more than leaping at the tusken in a clumsy tackle. 170 lbs of steel tumbled through the air towards the tusken, scalpel pointed at his chest.



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As soon as his finger pulled the trigger for the second time, Rruror’rur’rr was sliding back the bolt, ejecting the spent casing and loading another round. In that instant, he also observed the droid, truly an abomination of the worst kind, lurching its way towards him; clearly intent on destroying him for simply being one of the few that actively resisted their desire to rule and subject all to their mechanized will.


The ancestors were on his side and were guiding him, warning him and guiding his actions so he did not need to think. He only needed to be in the moment and allow the ancestors to use him as their conduit in the galaxy. As such, he pulled the trigger a third time, the ancestral voices telling him exactly when to fire for maximum effectiveness. In an instant, The Tusken sent another energy enveloped round rocketing through the air towards the now airborne demon with a BANG! As soon as the round had left the barrel of his elongated rifle he shoved it forward in an effort to catch the metal man off balance before he collided with him and knocked him down. If there was anything that Rruror’rur’rr was sure about, it was that of the plethora of mechanized monsters in the galaxy one could never tell what tricks they had up their sleeves. Some were stronger; some, like this one, had improvised mechanical weapons hidden in the most convenient of places; and finally none of them seemed to like sand.


…..or electricity for that matter he thought to himself with a grin hidden behind his facial wrappings.


Catching the flying metal being with the barrel of his rifle made The Tusken’s arms buckle with the combined weight and momentum of his attacker. Still it was enough to use the weapon in a makeshift manner so as to try and guide the airborne attacker away from himself and towards the arcing electrical panel nearby. If anything it would afford him the chance to create distance between them and whatever other surprises the mechanized spawn might have hidden within its gaunt frame.




((Alright, so you post one more time and then we ask Jaina to read it over and give us a ruling))

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A third bullet tore in QR-23, this time through his chestplate.


Hit primary power core...data not found, diagnostic sensors damaged.


It did not matter. This would be over in seconds, regardless of the severity of the damage.


In a second, thinking at the speeds necessary to save a patient's life in a critical moment, Query analyzed the situation once more. The tarken had improvised, using the longarm rifle to redirect the force of his tackle towards an electrical panel.




Query could not explain the source of the combat solution. Perhaps he was more damaged than he thought. Or perhaps his theories on the potential of the droid mind were inadequate. But the solution was elegant. Interesting that he could appreciate elegance at a time like this.


Exectute combat solution


Query dropped the scalpel. With his free hand, using pincers capable of micrometer accurate incisions, he grasped the end of the rifle. The rifle still strapped to the tusken. The rifle still held by the tusken. The tusken grounded on the metal floor.


Anchored as he was with his new grip, he still moved towards the open electrical circuit.


Evaluating probable damage to circuits. 99.98% likely to be catastrophic


Evaluating probable damage to circuits in complete shutdown...unknown


Better than nothing.


Shutdown all systems. Automated restart in five seconds.


As Query's damaged systems powered down, he briefly wondered how much pain being connected to the soon-to-be-formed circuit would cause the tusken. The question served no purpose but Query was curious.


Shutdown complete..........................

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  • 2 weeks later...

First off, well paced, both of you. This was a truly enjoyable read, and, whether or not it is hereditary, you both have a riveting knack for unique, interesting, and maybe even absurd character concepts. Most of the time, something I take issue with in duels is their pacing, and people trying to cram far too much action into each post. You both scaled and paced beautifully, each post detailing actions that gave each other adequate time to respond and making it a fun volley to read through.


Now, to get into the details. A medical droid, no matter how evolved and advanced, would be hard-pressed to keep up with a seasoned warrior that thrives off of instinct and bloodlust. (Or in this case, religious indignation at the existence of such an abomination.) However, the setting seems to even the playing field a bit, as they're on Query's home turf. A nod has to be given to the descriptive language that was both multifaceted and in-character. Using the kind of vocabulary that each character would employ definitely added to the overall believability of the setup.


The Tusken's initial strike is straightforward and in keeping with the passionate warriorhood of his character, and Query does well to both react and take the kind of damage that would be inflicted with such a strike. Query's counterattack does an appropriate amount of damage to the Tusken, whose reaction time is believable. I also have to commend both of you further for your fabulous acceptance of the damage dealt. Rruror'rur'rr's description of the effect that his injuries have on his focus and ability lends credence to the next actions he takes, including the need to lean on the wall for support due to the surgical slice in his leg.


The one issue that I took with the final round of posts was when Rruror'rur'rr (frighteningly I spelled that correctly from memory) spelled out the effect of the final charge by Query. Attempting contact with the hope of sending your opponent towards an electrical panel is one thing, writing that the attempted strike was redirected easily and without regard to the laser scalpel that, in theory, would have sheared through the Tusken's weapon as easily as flesh, seemed the only component in this duel that didn't quite belong. Query played along well, though, using the arcing panel as a weapon rather than a death sentence.


All of that being said, here is my ruling:





Although Rruror'rur'rr has the upper hand in all elements of combat, and would have likely won the fight with a measure of ease if it had gone on any longer, with the setting being what it was, it's unlikely that life support systems or the Tusken himself would survive being electrocuted. The downside of this, however, is that Query's circuits receive the same power surge that everything else does. His shutdown preserves several systems, but the damage to his circuits and servos will require extensive repair before he is able to access the full range of ability or memory core.


Thanks for playing, boys! A pleasure to read.


...why are the pretty ones always the most hazardous to your health?

May the Forth therve you well...

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̞͕̝̙̬͉̠R͈̟e̻͈̘͔̙̺̖s̘͝t̞̦̯̺͙̻̹͡a̹̯̩̻̦r̯͕̰͎̘t̷̹͓̹̭̜̰̭ ̭̺͝i̪n͓̭͈͚͎̺i͔̣̠t͕̠i͍̗͠a̫̭t̷̖͓e̠̫d̬̺̙̪̥ͅ



Query's photoreceptors powered on first, the first thing of note being that everything was blue.


Color correction requires adjusting


The next thing to note was that he wasn't dead.


Query adjusted his head, and was rewarded by a slow, jerky turn.


He was lying on top of the tusken, his opponent's lenses smoking and robes streaked with sharp, black burns. Unmoving.


Evaluating damage....


Inconclusive. Sensor data corrupted at the source.


Both legs and left arm unresponsive. Right arm functioning at 31% capacity.


Evaluating fine motor manipulation...


Unsatisfactory for surgical requirements


Current status of opponent...




Right arm shaking uncontrollably, Query lifted his hand, only to see that the laser scalpel was nowhere to be found. After a moment's consideration, he brought his hand down on the tusken's throat. Then he clamped.


He timed the seconds in his head, waiting until the time necessary for a fit human male to go without air to expire passed. Then he continued for an additional 30 seconds, in case his chronological measurements had been corrupted. For all he knew he could have choked the tusken for hours.




Query scraped his functioning hand across the durasteel floor, and inch by inch he dragged himself away from the smoking corpse.

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