A massive cataclysm has struck the universe, and destroyed most everything in its wake. The survivors are now trying to pick up the pieces, and figure out exactly what has befallen them. Gather together, lightsiders!! The darkness has shattered the peace and calm of the galaxy...and they will do anything to stop anyone from finding out exactly what has been done! This is our first sitewide RP plotline. Lightsiders, you are looking for the source of this massive event. Clues must be found, lackeys tracked down, and bits of memory discovered. Darksiders, you guys don't want that to happen....because of the one behind the whole thing is furthering his ultimate goal. Mandalorians, and non-force users, you guys can decide where you stand on this line....do you side with the Jedi, and try to discover the reasons behind the ruined universe, or will you side with the darkness, and protect those secrets. Will the secret of the cataclysmic reaping be kept under wraps? Or will the Jedi and their allies find out the truth? Your RP and writing will decide the outcome!
BATTLE ARENA
Welcome to The Saga Continues. We have a section called the Battle Arena. Here you can use your characters to fight other characters. Hone your skills and see what you are made of. Don't worry, anything that happens here, does not effect your characters in posts, so if your character dies, you can still use them over and over. Have fun and check it out!
The Saga Continues is the product of the mind of ADMIN ADI; all contents are copyright their original owners. All characters belong to their original creators, and may not be used or replicated without permission. All images are copyright their original owners. This skin Operation Mindcrime was made by pharaoh leap of Pixel Perfect and put together by ADMIN KRYSTAL
Balance is key when there is nothing below you save for one thin piece of metal that somebody deemed a bridge. It is shaky, thin, and if one looked below they would see nothing but a nearly infinite pit and a tremendous impending fall to the Death Star's core. The combatants will start at either end of the catwalk.
Of course, at the midway point of the catwalk is the tractor beam control tower itself, there's a small lip that you could probably inch yourself along to the side, bypassing a small part of the catwalk... if you dare.
Rules: no force powers, no armor, lightsabers only
Andor's footsteps clicked against the metal floor, echoing as the sound waves travelled into the pit below until he stopped at the edge of the catwalk. He was clad in his usual crimson tunic, with the overlaying black cloak, hood raised to hide all but his crimson eyes. Ahead of him was the thin bridge, at the middle, the controls to the tractor beam, and then another expanse of bridge on the other side.
The Sith looked forward, eyeing the man standing on the other side of the catwalk.... a Jedi. This Jedi was smart too, having lured Andor to the one point in the entire Death Star where he would be at a disadvantage with his lightsaber combat. With only a small path for Andor to walk, he knew his skills in Ataru were useless, his acrobatics would be suicide. He'd have to rely on the other forms in which he'd trained. Andor's thoughts briefly floated to the recorded accounts of the duel between Darth Maul and the Jedi Knights, Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi Wan Kenobi that took place in the bowels of the Theed Palace. It was widely known that Qui-Gon's defeat could have been avoided if he had been in a more open setting, his preference for the style of Ataru being hindered.... the same situation Andor found himself in now.... There had to be another way.
All the Sith Lord had were his two lightsabers, each of them strapped to the insides of his forearms, his connection to the Force all but broken... useless. He shrugged his black cloak from his body, letting the black fabric fall limply to the ground. He stood there with his white hair, crimson eyes, his pale skin pulled tight across his skeletal features. His eyes stabbed daggers at his opponent, silent as a wraith.
Oh the joys of these Dark Side based empires and their larger than life toys. It never faltered. Or failed. These Sith and the factions they forged. They always sought some kind of super weapon. Perhaps to overcompensate for their own insecurities about themselves and their life choices. Perhaps it was more of a narcissistic measure, thriving on the attention such weapons of mass destruction gave them. Empires ruled with fear always broke apart in the end. History had written that story a hundred times over and this was no different.
Geir had heard much of the Sith that stood before him today, and how he'd delve deep into the Jedi Order to corrupt and pry Jedi Knights from the Light. He'd drag them to the Dark serving up lies and slander in a gift like fashion. This Darth Andor's silver tongue was known to the Jedi and his infectious nature could not be allowed to plague the galaxy anymore. The web of lies needed to be un-spun and the truth allowed to come to light. As much as Geir strove to see the good in people, to see the possibility of their redemption, he knew there would be no such justice afforded. The only justice to be served was to rid the glaxy of this blight. This scourge. And bring further balance to the Force once more.
Geir stood at the other end of the catwalk and bridge, the tractor beam controls in the center of the chasm obstructing his view of the Sith as he shed he cloak. And . . . there was something about this chamber. It seemed to dampened and even extinguish his ability to connect with the Force. That, in itself, was not a comforting sign, as he did not know if his opponent would be suffering the same effects.
Geir was garbed in his familiar maroon and brown accented Jedi tunic, the brown leather belt spanning his waist. Hanging from the classic hook-loop fasteners, were the masterfully crafted hilts of his two lightsabers. One had a blade green as emerald while the other a blade of sapphire blue. There were no other items he carried about his person.
This particular location would make it difficult for him to implement his favored form of Vaapad, but in the same measure, it would keep his opponent from using their favored Ataru stance. Both combatants would be uncomfortable here, but Geir had faith that his experience as the Blademaster and Battlemaster of the Jedi Order would give him the advantage needed over his opponent here. He smiled as he carefully stepped out onto the narrow metal beam that served as the bridge to the tractor beam controls, pulling the hilt of his green-bladed lightsaber from by his right hip though not thumbing its activation switch. In his mind, Geir went over several approaches he coul take to this fight and every favorable scenario that might potentially lie within his arsenal.
"Darth Andor. It's time we finish this. Your evil cannot be allowed to prevail in the galaxy."
Andor sneered as the Jedi advanced, speaking his name and exclaiming how Andor was evil and he wasn't allowed to live any more. The Sith Lord started forward to meet the Jedi, the lightsaber strapped to his right arm sliding smoothly into his awaiting palm.
The crimson blade screamed forward, its cacophonous hum resonating within the chamber.
With a flick of his wrist, the blade shot up upwards, Andor taking on the typical stance of a fencer. His left arm rested behind his back, his right leg forward, as he inched closer and closer.
"Master Jedi, the battle hasn't even begun, and you have already lost. Lay down your weapon, and succumb to will of the Force."
But Andor knew what would come next: only one of them would leave alive.
"How have I lost? It was I who lured you here and took your ability to elegantly move away from you. It is I who is the Blademaster of my Order. So tell me, Andor, how is it that I have lost when the odds are so heavily stacked against you? In all honesty, Geir truly wondered if, in fact, Andor could be that naive. That he would make such boast when he was so far out of his element and with the odds, as far as Geir saw them, so heavily stacked against him.
Geir did not activate the emerald blade of the lightsaber held in his right hand, even as the Sith brought his crimson blade so violently to life. His plan and his tactics pointed him down another route and one he was also well versed in. It would be a form his Sith foe likely would have seen very little of throughout his days. An unfamiliarity Geir was poised to exploit. However, he would wait until the moment was right to reveal it.
He stepped further towards the center of the bridge where the controls to the tractor beam where and where the floor space opened up, if only ever so slightly in order to properly house the control station. He was within about six feet of the control section now, and that meant he was closer to exploiting his plan. Closer to purging another Sith from the galaxy and allowing a little more light to prevail as he strove to bring balance to the Force and the galaxy in turn. They say the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step and this would not be entirely different. The path to purging the galaxy of the Sith's vile corruption, could only happen a Sith at a time. This time that Sith was Darth Andor.
"Your arrogance blinds you, Jedi," Andor retorted. Yes, Andor was at the disadvantage, and he hoped that Geir would become overconfident in his abilities, which in turn, could lead to his ultimate demise.
The two combatants were nearly upon each other, the suspense growing to higher levels with each passing second. The hair on the back of Andor's neck stood erect, his breathing growing shallower with excitement, his heart rate escalating to a higher level. His adrenaline pumped through his veins, yet Andor still could not connect with the Force.
Let's get to it shall we?
A wraith-like screech erupted from Andor's mouth as he launched at his opponent. He dove forward, head first, his second lightsaber coming into his left hand, and igniting with a hiss. His body flew parallel to the ground, his blades angled above his head to create an "X". His body turned in a clock-wise motion, and the crossed blades drew a circular line of crimson light, aimed to pierce his opponent through the chest in two before quickly shredding it apart.
With the platform in which the combatants stood being so narrow and hindering, Andor's tactic was to overwhelm his opponent with a flurry of motion, forcing them into acting quickly, and this corkscrew driver was meant to do just that.
Geir had, at this point, positioned himself as closely to the column of controls as he could. His stance was that of a southpaw fighter, the right leading the left. And his lightsaber remained extinguished and in its housing the pointed in the direction of the Sith. His knees were slightly bent and his weight balanced between a shoulder-width spread. His right foot pointed in the direction of the Sith, his left perpendicular to that and he waited for what the Sith would do as a Jedi only struck out in defense and would allow the opponent to strike first. Such was the way things were.
So . . . when the Sith bellowed forth his wraith-like torrent of a scream, Geir was ready. However, the scream was harsh and intense. It was a release of some kind. Pain? Sorrow? Energy? The Force? The release could have been a number of things, but there was no time to ponder and reflect on such things. This Sith, if he knew what was in his best interest, would not allow the Master Jedi time to think, nor should he allow for there to be kind of comfort. And, just a predicted, the Sith would press forward to take away such pleasantries, but in a peculiar fashion.
Such an odd form of attack on such a narrow platform. Gutsy and reckless, but that shouldn't be surprising considering the move came from a Sith. The corkscrew seemed almost Palpatine like from the recorded histories of the Rise of the Empire era. However, the attack didn't seem to have the flair, nor the precision of the technique that had been recorded so long ago. This was probably a sign that the Sith was suffering from the same Force suppression that he was.
Good. That meant an even playing field in that aspect.
As the Sith's body came barreling toward his, Geir shifted his weight forward slightly and pivoted around his lead foot in a counter clockwise. What this did was re-position Geir's body so that it was behind the column that housed the controls and his right foot slid behind the cover as well once his back touched against the column.
Now, Geir's back was flush against the column. His right side was to the catwalk/bridge and his left hand gripping at a portion of the column to maintain balance on the extremely narrow lip that rounded that column. His right arm hung rigidly to his side and the hilt he held in the hand pointed toward the catwalk area and up at and angle slightly above parallel to the ground. Should Andor's momentum carry him through that area to his immediate right, Geir would thumb the activation switch to quickly call forth that emerald blade to bisect the Sith as his body flew through the path (most likely scenario as Geir saw things).
Should Andor's momentum not carry him through that area, Geir would quietly and carefully inch around the column to a point where it would be extremely difficult for Andor to reach him without committing himself to that same extremely narrow lip that rounded the column.
Without the aid of the Force, Andor's momentum did not carry him nearly as far as he had hoped... In fact, it would have been better off if Andor hadn't performed the move to begin with, but with decades of training in Ataru, his instincts outweighed his intellect: a problem that may have saved his life from his own recklessness.
As soon as his feet left the air, Andor already felt his body falling, the pull of gravity keeping his body from reaching a perfect parallel. His head came down, and Andor briefly deactivated his blades, tucking into a roll. As he tucked his head, he felt the ground touch the area of his back between his shoulder-blades before his momentum carried him fully through the roll. As his body came out of the roll, Andor re-activated his blades, popping up onto his two feet in a shoulder-width stance, knees bent to help manage his balance and keep him from falling over. He stood on the platform, at about the center of the controls, not quite to the edge in which Geir had pivoted into.
HIs blades were at his sides, the points sticking into the bridge, melting down the duracrete as it began to give off the orangish-yellow glow. He had been reckless, his blind anger and hatred for Jedi guiding his attack... It had nearly cost him his life. Andor was furious with himself. Clumsy, clumsy, clumsy! A growl of discontent escaped his lips as he analyzed the situation.
Geir was on the lip, inching his way around the control tower, no doubt attempting to pull the Sith Lord in after him... The Jedi's weapon remained unlit: could it be a practice of Form Zero? Teras Kasi? Trakata? It was too early to be sure.
Andor waited, knowing that if he followed Geir onto the lip of the controls, it would be his downfall. His only chance was here on the main bridge. No more recklessness, no more thoughtless offense. Strategy and precision is what it would take to bring this Jedi to his death.
Smart. This Sith had done his first sensible thing since the confrontation had begun. He waited and did not prematurely as his kind so often did. It didn't matter, however. Geir was patient and would wait until the Sith committed to his next action.
When Geir had reached the far side of the column where the controls were actually located, he carefully and quietly pivoted to where his chest and front was pressed against it instead of his back as before, aiming to make as little noise as possible. His lightsaber remained inactive and he made himself as quiet as he possibly could and listened for Andor's next move. A subtle foot step. Maybe. Perhaps, the rhythmic inhalations and exhalations of the Sith. With the Sith out of sight now due to his own positioning behind the column, leaning on his hearing would be imperative - at least until the Sith could be seen once more.
Well this was dull, but Geir was patient and would do what he could to make this Sith play his game. A game where he controlled what happened and carried an advantage. As long as Geir could control the pace and momentum of this match, this Sith was be at a disadvantage. It was how he'd been trained. Control the fight and limit your opponent to areas where you can dictate their actions, whether the opponent knew it was happening or not. A predictable opponent, was an already defeated opponent.
So . . . Geir patiently waited for Andor's next move.
Andor stood in his wide stance, his twin lightsabers still burning through the duracrete platform. It seemed as though they were in a stale-mate, Andor refusing to move onto the small lip of the control tower, while Geir refused to come off of it. The Sith gave a sigh of annoyance, his mind calculating the slim odds of him surviving the encounter if he followed Geir and engaged him on such thin footing....
But... There might be another way.
Andor lifted his right blade and thrust it forward and directly into the control tower. Immediately its metallic surface began to turn orange, melting away as the blade slid all the way up in, up to its hilt. As the heat from the Sith's crimson blade began to spread through the console, Andor hoped his calculations were correct. Maybe his blade would sever a major electrical wire, sending the console exploding in a shower of sparks, which could easily burn Geir's face or eyes since his chest is (unknowingly) pressed against the side of the console where the controls were located. Hell, it could even overload the circuits and cause an explosion, knocking Geir (and probably himself) off the platform and into the abyss below.
If there was any way to get Geir off that damn platform, and handicap him at the same time. This would be Andor's only shot without his ability to manipulate the Force. And hopefully, should this tricky, spontaneous maneuver work, it would catch Geir completely off guard....
And there it was, the preparation of the Sith's next onslaught. The increased volume and pitch of the blade's as it swam through the air, seemingly slicing through the suspense like a hot blade through butter left out over night. However, there was no real idea as to what would be inherently coming with the Sith's figure obstructed completely by the column where the controls were housed. His suppressed ability to call on the Force, too, jaded Andor's actions from him. His hearing, studies and training were all he had to fall back on. That and instinct.
Soon enough a sharp his swept through the open chamber, followed by the wailing agony of durasteel as it struggled to maintain its integrity with the focused energy of a lightsaber plunge so deep into it. If the sound of the two forces fighting one another were not enough of an indication as to what was occurring, the following stench of heated metal and noxious fumes that wafted into the air that filled the stale chamber surely would be.
Geir was have to adjust fast it he wanted to come out of this unscathed. In the time it would take for Andor's crimson blade to heat the column to a molten state, Geir would have to find his way off the column an back onto the platform bridge. Add to this the inevitable sparking that would surely erupt at any moment now, and you had yourself a disaster scenario. But, not all hope was lost. There was still a way as it would take time to heat the metal to the point it would physically harm the Jedi Master, however little that time was. More likely than not, the heating effect would not take the same path as that of a symmetrical object and thus, there would be more to consider in the heat's dispersion. Being oblong in design, taller than the object was wide, the colum would heat in a fashion that the horizontal spread would far exceed that of the vertical spread. Therefore, the area of the column closure to Geir's torso would heat at a higher rate than the area by where his hands and feet were placed. This would hopefully give Geir all the opening he needed in order to escape this previously unplanned predicament.
Geir shuffled his way clockwise around the column, footsteps muffled beneath the painful cries of the rapidly heating metal. Though he intended to make as little noise as possible in shimmying away from his previous position, a slight clanking sound would ring out as the hilt of his lightsaber beat against the column with each movement of his right hand. Clank. Clank. Clank.
By the time he would reach bridge again, the scent of singed fabric had begun to waft into the air as the fire retardant material of his Jedi robes fought so vehemently against the heat of the column not to ignite. His chest was warm and felt about the same as a mild sunburn, but he'd not come out completely unscathed. A few of the sparks that had begun to erupt from the column had caught his hand and wrist, leaving behind their mark with some burn related blistering. It was an annoyance, certainly, but nothing he wouldn't be able to deal with for the time being. With his adrenaline in full swing, he actually paid the four or five small blisters no mind, but the reddening that already began to blanket the surface foreshadowed that they wouldn't go unnoticed forever.
He pulled his second saber from the hook-loop fastener at his left hip and held the hilt in his left hand. He did not thumb its activator and therefore the sapphire blade remained housed and unseen.
Andor's ears picked up on the sound of metal on metal almost instantly, his senses tuned to the highest levels of concentration since we was handicapped without the Force. So he was returning to the bridge at a meticulous pace, one false step and the Jedi would fall to his death. He was coming up to Andor's left side, the way he had gotten on the bridge.
Andor had no plans to give Geir the opportunity to set foot on the bridge again.
The Sith Lord moved to his left to intercept his opponent's exit, his right blade exiting the console with a screaming hiss, sending billows of smoke curling into the air. He stood in front of the small path that lead around the tower, and found the Jedi within arm's reach of his blade, just a handful of side steps away from the main bridge.
His hands were occupied, being used to maintain his balance, his lightsaber unlit. He was completely vulnerable.
Andor's right blade deactivated as his left leg stepped onto the ledge, his knees bent to help maintain his balance and to lower his center of gravity. His right hand moving forward to hold onto the heated console, the metal hot against his skin. As he stepped forward, Andor's left lightsaber came across in a horizontal slash from his left to right, with the strength of his prothetic arm, hoping to sear through Geir's legs, just above the knee, severing them from his body. From Geir's perspective, with his chest against the console, the blade would be coming in from behind at just above knee height.
Well fellas, I'm sorry to say that, while this was shaping up to be an interesting match between the iconic Jedi v. Sith, it simply wasn't to be. Real life came a-calling, and unfortunately Geir was unable to meet the time limits for posting.
For that reason, I hereby declare Andor the victor of this match. Congratulations, and I hope to see you both back soon.
