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Leena V. Nok - undisclosed medical bay: JUDGE TBD

Leena Kil

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Leena pushed her sleeves up as she came back from carrying another gurney through the medical bay towards the docked Sprint medical craft. The usual white of the room was bathed in the rotating glare of red lights and blaring klaxons. The armies of the Sith had appeared out of nowhere and their troops had descended upon the rebel base in a fury. Even as the forces of good rushed to mount their defense, Leena and a few other medics and droids had been left trying to evacuate the injured; even as more came in.


It broke the girl’s heart as she tagged the toe of another injured trooper rushed in with black. He was too injured and they did not have time to save him. Had he been alone and there had been time, Leena knew she could save him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, gingerly stepping forward and running her hand across the man’s eyelids with her hand, closing his eyes, “Go with the force, knowing you served the light. Paradise awaits.”


Normally, Leena would sit and meditate in the life of every patient she lost. It had been a rare event to be treating so many patients at one time as more came through the door. In fact, she could think of only twice where it had been this chaotic in a medbay she was assigned to, one of those was a multi vehicle crash and the other when fire had swept through an aged city burning the wooded structures like twigs. Both had trapped numerous dead and dying. Each of those times, however, she had served under the watchful eyes of her Jedi masters in the Healer’s Circle. This time was different. She alone was the wielded if the force in this room. The more senior Jedi having rushed off to tend to the defenses. Never before had her station been under attack.


Even so, as the Mon Cal rushed across the room to help a single 2-1B hoist another gurney, she reached out with the force. This was her medbay, and the forces of darkness were not here to take it from her. “Well, at least they aren’t here yet,” She mumbled to herself as she handed the gurney off to an another medic and hurried back into the room, waving another gurney on towards the awaiting evacuation craft. “Get him aboard! The force says he will live to fight another day.” She could feel the trooper’s presence in the force. While his injuries were grave, his will to live was more determined. It was not his time to die. The force willed it.


Closing her eyes for a moment, Leena inhaled and exhaled, balancing her mind in the soothing flow of the light side of the force. The entire room was bathed in the warmth of the flowing light side of the force; even amongst the chaos, Leena was a beacon of peace. This was her domain and she took responsibility for everyone in it. That meant tending to their injuries, both bodily and mentally. Her medbay was to be a place of peace and life.


Opening her eyes, she felt it. Leena has been expecting it; but deep down she had hoped it would not come to this. A dark presence was approaching the chaotic bay. It was a dark presence that she pushed at with her mind, but could not drive off. “That’s no dark thought,” she exclaimed, as she whirled about, her voice rising to a shout as the force carried her faster. “Hurry! The Sith approach! You there, double time. Grab your buddy and drag him aboard. I don’t care if your arm hurts! Move!” Even as an apprentice she was in command.


The Jedi did not know what approached, but she knew she had to protect they that had come to her for help. Her legs were a blur as she turned and with the push of a hand, sent a gurney skittering towards the Sprint, carried by a wave of the force. Meanwhile, she strode to the center of the room, facing the swinging double doors to the bay. One eye focused on the doors, awaiting whatever might enter, the other continuing to dart about watching the hubbub of the room. Stretching out with her right hand towards a nicely folded pile of sheets and blankets in the corner, Leena interrupted the stream that was the force, calling the shimmering silver hilt of her lightsaber into her open hand.


At that moment, the doors opened and she stood there, her unlit saber held defensively in one hand the light of the force swirling in jetties around her, the odor of salt and the sea rising up amongst the smells of blaster bolts, burnt flesh, and antiseptic. Leena was adorned in blood spattered white robes. She knew she was the final wall between whatever came through the door and her wards. If she needed to die here to ensure that as many got away as possible;  well then, “so be it.”




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A tall neimoidian robed all in red stood in the doorway, flanked by a battle droid on each side. A silky, crimson blindfold embroidered with gold patterning glittered on his head, but it could not cover up the scarred, puckered flesh that spread from the ruin of his eyes. The elegant black cloth headdress might have completed the opulent display, had half of it not been sheared off. Scorched threads stuck out in an unraveling tangle where the blaster bolt must have passed through. The brown and black stains at the hem of his robe looked and smelled of blood, feces, and the other fluids of the dead and dying. Disheveled as he was, the neimoidian carried himself gracefully, arrogantly surveying the med bay with sightless eyes.


Nok grimaced as he took in the medbay. It appeared as a dim collection of shadows, outlined by the fading light of the retreating wounded soldiers, their pain and fear rippling outward and washing over the room.

Of course the medbay was nearly empty. This day had been one wrong thing after another. Nok wasn’t even supposed to be on the battlefield, and yet here he was, the victim of a Sith Lord’s twisted joke. Send the neimoidian in, it’ll be fun to watch him dance before he dies. Nok had survived, thankful for the thousandth time for his training, but his slaves had all been cut down in the crossfire. Without their constant source of fear and shock-collar induced pain, Nok was nearly blind. The tumult of dark emotions washing over the battlefield provided some illumination, but the sources were too far away to provide the clear vision Nok needed if he was going to survive. To top it off, most of his droid bodyguards had been destroyed, leaving him with only two.

And so he’d come here, following the suffering soldiers like a carrion scavenger, hoping for replacements to his slaves in the form of the wounded or terrified medical staff. Instead, the last of the wounded were leaving, and as for the doctors…

No, not a doctor.

She stood before him, but from her he felt...nothing. Peace. She held something in her hand. A hilt.

A Jedi 

He pointed at her with a finger adorned with a nova crystal ring. “Go, I won’t stop you.”

I’ll wait for the next one.

Edited by Nok Morliss
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As the Nemoidian and his entourage entered the room, Leena felt his presence before she saw him. The man bore the brunt of combat, yet still, he had plowed through the waves of the force and ended up in her medical bay.


With her jaw steeled in a sense of purpose, Leena’s mind pushed back against the dark force that had arrived; hoping to drive it back by her sheer power of will in the force. Behind her she could hear as the last of her wards began to be rushed out of sight. She knew they would still need some time to secure the most fragile patients before blasting off into the fray above and trying to make it to safety. 

Regarding the regal mess before her, Leena reached out with her free hand, drawing forth the ripples that raced across the force and redirected them outward from her hand towards the droids that accompanied the man. They presented the most imminent threat to those she stood for. They needed to be the first to be dealt with. 

And so from her hand rushed waves of force empowered energies directed at the metallic killers in hopes of blasting them back into the wall hard enough to shatter their circuitry and programming.


“No. Master Sith. You may go.” She spoke, her voice sharp, clear, and unwavering in its conviction. In case her words needed any more clarification, she brought her simply decorated silvery hilt forward, clasping it in both hands; and with an all too familiar whoosh, A teal blade materialized into existence. Holding it at waist-level, Leena’s eyes stared at the Neimodian Sith in all his splendor, a stark difference to her simple white Jedi attire. “This is my sanctuary. You will not define it.”


((OOC NOTE: It was agreed upon that the droids would be destroyed right away))


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Nok ducked as his bodyguards were flung and smashed into the wall, their surprised cries turning to fading whines as they crumpled to the floor. His skin prickled as the familiar sound of a lightsaber igniting cut through the air.

I’m betting she knows how to use that, and I’m here with knives and a blaster. I’ll need to throw her off balance.

So give her what she expects... 

He stood up straight, holding his hands out, a rehearsed sneer on his face.

“Jedi,” he drawled like a half-price holovid villain, “you cannot hope to match the power of the Dark Side. Let me show you!”

He clenched his fists, and thought a familiar phrase.

Dead in the cold and dark.

The fear was instant. It disgorged from the black pit at the base of his skull and cascaded through his body. He was chilled and excited at once. Focus and terror merged, and the universe shrunk down to a moment. The Force roiled around him, and he saw the medbay clearly, saw the mon calamari standing in a defensive position, saw the last of the wounded limping towards escape, their pain a light all its own.

He gathered the Force, focusing for a single, powerful push, and thrust his hands out towards the Jedi. The churning power was the limit of Nok’s ability, only enough to violently move a few hundred pounds. But that would be enough for his purposes.

It found its target, but it wasn’t the Jedi. The wounded, limping soldier behind the Jedi was struck with the blast, Nok homing in on his pain. The power of the Force energized by Nok’s fear and will shoved the soldier forward at the wall, with the force to crack a skull open.

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The tidal crash of dark side energies was enormous. What Leena has felt initially was but a trickle compared to when the creature before her struck out. She could practically taste the fear on her tongue. And she felt it, as surely as she stood in the medical bay: fear. The whirlpool of dark side energies lapping for anything they could reach, centered on the regally enshrouded being before her.


Yet, he did not do as she expected. This dark lord of the sith did not draw his saber, instead, he had released the power of the vortex; not at her. The riptide of power bypassed her in a moment, and she felt it, mere moments before it occurred. The wave of destruction was not meant for her. Before she could react the sound of the trooper’s death cry reaches her ears and fell silent with a sickening thud.


Leena’s anger pressed outward at the cowardly act displayed before her. Yet she still stood, a sentinel before the man. “You shall not pass.” Her mind was still awash in the ocean of the force. Even as the onslaught of dark power muddied the waters, she stood an island amidst the hurricane. She was that island, and the saber in her hand became the lighthouse beam that sought to guide any ship seeking harbor safe passage. Buffered but not broken by the onslaught of power, Leena allowed the force to flow through her; she was but a vessel of its will, built to withstand this storm. Without a thought, guided by instinct and the force alone she stepped forward, her saber arcing in a wide horizontal blur of blue-green at the Neimodian’s forearms. She did not want to kill the man before her. She only sought to sever the flow of darkness; to protect those under her care. The best way to do that, at least in the moment, was to remove the offender’s weapons; his hands. Perhaps, then could his ragged soul still be saved.


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The Jedi’s flash of anger illuminated her perfectly, allowing Nok to see her every detail, as if he somehow watched her from all sides at once with a dozen eyes.


Got you.


Unfortunately, Nok was used to egotistical businessmen and outraged activists, not true Jedi. He should have guessed a Jedi wouldn’t be so easy to bait, as even as he watched, her anger faded to something duller and controlled. Still, the flash, combined with his combat training, was enough for him to see her attack coming.


He dodged back, but underestimated the speed of a lightsaber wielded by someone competent in its use. The weightless blade scored twin burns on his wrists as layers of skin were disintegrated, the sizzling pain shooting through his body and becoming tiny lights of their own to his Dark Side depended vision.


Remember your training. Use the pain!


Even as he fought his way past the pain, his fear grew. If he’d been a hair slower, she’d have sheared his hands off. He could die here.


His breathing became faster, his lung pods convulsing under the stress in a way that hadn’t happened since he’d been a child. Moving on instinct, his hand dove into his robes and drew out his blaster. Screaming, he pumped off shot after shot at the Jedi as he backpedaled away from her.

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Leena could taste the man’s fear. Deep in her soul, it saddened her. Beings acted irrationally out of fear. She had seen the damage fear could do to a body, both in the long term and in the explosive short term. Speaking of which . . . 

Leena saw the gun slip out of the Neimodian’s robe and felt the blaster bolts before they erupted from the end of the barrel like fiery torpedos of destruction. 

“Not today,” the girl grunted as she pulled her saber back, using the momentum of her arms and the force to send her slipping backwards through the air, the first blaster bolts zinging clear beneath her; where a fraction of a second before she had been standing.


The dark side was present in the man’s howl reverberating off of everything. She could feel it, feel the fear that powered it, feel it costing every blast that raced through the air of this, her sanctuary. Even as the second blaster bolt zinged through her robes, singing her calf, Leena felt the force. The pain let her know she was alive and renewed the focus within her mind: to prevent and remove the pain of others.


Even as she landed atop a stainless steel table with a crash putting more distance between she and the invasive sick sith, she was already acting, her body flowing with the light side of the force, blaster fire flying wildly through the air at where she had just been. 

‘emotion, yet peace.’


From her landed position, with her unsinged leg bent and her good foot firmly planted on the table and her injured calf tucked behind her knee on the table as well, Leena threw her hand forward; the blade of her saber pointed directly at the Neimodian’s chest. As her arm reached maximum extension, Leena did not stop; instead, she let go. Her saber sailed forward from her hand on the waves of the force. The blade remaining activated as she called on the light side to assist her, just as she did whenever she purged the infection from a wound. Here too, she would cut out the tissue that was unsalvagable. From there, the wound would be purified and healed.


Leena did not say a word, she was entirely focused on the force, the vortex of power that flowed about her lending itself to her call; and focused upon seeing it carry her teal-tipped torpedo of justice into its intended target. “YEEEEAAAAA!!”




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As the pain blossomed from the Jedi’s leg, Nok couldn’t fight the grin that spread across his face.


Not invincible are you? Now I’ll just keep you on the defensive, wear you down.


She swung her lightsaber, not to block his shots, but at the empty air. His confidence turned into triumph as he saw her misstep, his endless, grueling practice adjusting his aim before he could think. He’d end her right now.


The Jedi’s lightsaber left her hand.


Oh kriff


Black, roaring pain erupted from his right shoulder in a wave that swallowed him. As he fought to keep conscious, to turn the pain into power, some part of him sorted out what had been done to his body. The lightsaber had passed through his shoulder as he’d stepped back out of reflex, his own movement effortlessly slicing his shoulder bone clean across the impaling energy blade before it came out the other side. As if from a distance, he heard his gun clatter to the floor from his useless hand. His vision swam. His blood roared. His heart thudded like artillery fire in his ears. He desperately grappled with the pain even as the entire medbay jumped out at him in stark detail, illuminated by his agony. He saw the Jedi again, saw her eyes…


...her pity.


Nok reaction to that look was pure instinct. It wasn’t a Sith technique, or a combat maneuver, or even some brilliant tactic. It was a reflex ingrained into every neimoidian from when they were grubs, the response of a greedy child sensing compassion in a caretaker.


Nok weaseled.


He stopped channeling his pain and fear into the Force and let them run through him without direction or focus, tearing at his mind like glass shards. He barely kept consciousness as he keened and babbled incoherently, the sound of an animal being slaughtered, a 100% honest reaction to pain and impending death. He stumbled, stepping on the hem of his own robe as he backed away and crashed to the floor. His incoherent screaming resolved into choked words.


“Please! Please wait! I’m...I’m not a real Sith! I’m not supposed to be here! Please I don’t want to die! Mercy! Please have mercy!”


The mewling and begging came automatically to him, without thought, the easy performance of a master liar. In the tiny corner of his mind not writhing in pain and fear, the dark side waited, a temptation. It could use this pain, this fear, channel it into something useful, not this base agony of the weak. All he had to do was reach out…


No. If he did, she’d sense it, and the game would be up.


Tears streamed from his sightless eye sockets, but he could still see the Jedi, his pain and fear wrinkling and rippling the Force, framing her in exact detail. Even as he let go of the Dark Side completely, his Force-attuned mind wasn't blind.


His back hit the wall as he slid away, and he implored her with every ounce of withering misery he had.


“Please...please don’t kill me. They made me this way. They’ve hurt me.”


He curled up against the wall, as if preparing to recoil from a blow, and as he did one of his vibroblades slipped out of his sleeve and into his good left hand.


“Can you...help me?”


As the last word left his lips, his arm snapped out. Countless hours of training kept his aim true through the pain. He hadn’t even activated the blade, afraid she’d hear it a split second before the throw. It wouldn’t matter. Nok’s knives were the best money could buy, and razor sharp.


The knife sailed through the air, tip towards the Jedi’s throat.

Edited by Nok Morliss
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First things first, I want to let you guys know that I am honored to have Modded this duel, so I hope either you do not end up hating me after this. >.<


So here are the Pros....

1. Loved how both of you guys stuck with your character's weaknesses and flaws as much as their strengths. That is a great trait to have in such an RP as ours and kudos to you two for showing it so well.

2. No matter what attack was thrown, the both of you kept up with it and posted some semblance of damage. Another great trait to have, and personally, one of great importance when dealing with realism.

3. I love how the pace was well matched, and even the dialogue flowed effortlessly into the moment, so it gave me a strong sense of their mind frames both in thought and words spoken even as they acted in either offensive and defensive momentums.


Now for the Cons....

1. The most notable, and often downside to duel, is grammatical errors. Some misspelled words, or words off set or in incorrect positioning, or even confusing paragraphing. And for Leena, this happened a few times more so than Nok.

2. Damage received is another small, albeit hindering factor in this duel, especially where Nok was concerned when he received burns across his wrists. Typically, such a wound received would have cut tendons and likely even rendering his hands useless due to compacted heat that emits even before the blade touches. However, Leena was not without her own faults in this, as she posted in her following post getting struck and recovering too quickly from a blaster bolt to the calf. So in truth, those two movements kind of canceled each other in this regard.

3. Given the above mentioned con # 2, the ending wouldn't likely have happened as it did. But due to their canceling each other out they way they did, we're going to have to judge in as is and base everything on overall merits.


Now for the ruling....

As I stated above, I am honored that you guys wanted me to judge this duel, and as such, wanted to give you guys a ruling that not only respected you two OOCly, but show your characters ICly the admiration they deserved. No duel is ever perfect, and even some of the cons I mentioned above I myself have done on quite a few occasions without even realizing it. That being said, I brought my A-Game with me, which is why it's taken me so long to write this ruling up. Leena's showcasing and reactions of her character were flawless in her writing save for a few minor grammatical errors. You could truly feel her desperation in fighting to give the others a chance for escape, down to very Jedi act of self sacrifice if need be. On the other hand, Nok's showcasing of his Neimoidian ways as well as the use of the Force to see in other ways, right down to the very act of begging and pleading, something that really set the stage for him despite his own minor errors. So in truth, this was a very difficult duel to Judge, and as such, I loved every minute of it. But I'm going to have to take the logical route here....


Given the situation, Leena without a lightsaber at the moment, and Nok barely able to keep himself conscious save for out of sheer willpower, I'm going to have to give Leena the win. Considering she has the aptitude to heal herself, as well as still capable of standing and fighting versus the wounded shoulder that Nok has sustained combined with his already fight to keep himself conscious, it's highly unlikely that the blade truly strike it's intended mark. It'll definitely cut, but as Leena is capable of reacting faster and dodging, as well as calling her blade back to her hand in swiftness, it likely won't make a deadly strike. So, @Leena Kil, last post is yours. @Nok Morliss, awesome duel all the same.

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As the Nemoidian toppled back from the blow of her saber, Leena carefully hopped from her perch on the table, stumbling slightly as pain races up her injured leg. Gritting her teeth in pain and steadying herself in the calming energies of the tumultuous waves of the force that churned about the room, she shuffled towards the quivering mass of fear and darkness. He was begging for his life. She had no intention of killing the man, despite what he had done. If he was injured, he was her responsibility now. 

The closer Leena got, the more the man seemed to recoil in fear. “This is what the dark side does. It promises you power and yet, in the end, it leaves you powerless.”


”Please do not be afraid. If you would like to seek healing I can assist you. If you would like to seek redemption, nothing is impossible with the force.”


“Can you...help me?” The words were barely out of his mouth before Leena felt it, a twinge in the force, like a spear of light reaching across the windswept waves of an ocean storm beckoning a ship to safety and warning of danger. And in that illuminating flash of light side power, the young Mon Cal saw the Sithling’s actions moments before he acted. Leena believed that the force could sense the subtlest of changes in a being’s biological impulses and from there accurately interpret what was coming next. Such philosophies did not matter in the moment however. What mattered was the force had shone clear on the downed dark sider’s intentions. In that moment, just as she had positioned her weight kn her good leg to reach out a hand to help the man, she pulled back, her body twisting at the hips, weight still balanced on her good leg, and the blade that shot from the man’s hand sailed through clear air past her where it embedded itself with a thud in the ceiling.


And then even as she pulled herself out of the way, Leena gave into the force, the echoes of light, she felt sadness for the man for an instant, anger at what the dark side had turned him into, and yet in it al, she felt peace. The emotions did not force her hand, they were a part of her and she belonged to the force. So did her emotions. With her hand still outstretched in an offer of help, Leena tugged with the force. Her deactivated saber that had cleaved the man’s should and had been lying lifeless beneath his body sprang to life. The teal-blue blade erupted through the Nemoidian’s rich garb about his midsection and the weapon spun free of where it was pinned, whirling back to Leena’s outstretched hand and cleanly bisecting the Sith just below his ribcage.


With the blafe blazing in her hand, Leena watched with disgust as the two halves of the man sloppy slid apart and topped to the floor with a thud and a squish.


With the flick of her finger, the blade deactivated and Leena tucked the weapon into her cloth belt and slowly shook her head, her eyes downcast and saddened.


“I could have helped you,” she mumbled as she knelt to push the man’s eyelids shut in a sign of respect. “The darkness is a lie. May you find peace in whatever afterlife that you believe in. Ride on the waves of the force knowing that your suffering is at an end.”


And with that, Leena stood, turning to surveil the destruction that had come upon her ward.  In the distance, she could hear the engines of the medical ship blasting away. Leena smiled, even as her face looked forlorn. “At least they are safe from here.”


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