Battle of Naboo: Duel in the Ballroom

[Jaime]

OOC: This is a private thread.

Before...

He could hear his feet dragging against the ground, his armor clanking, and his voice echoing through the halls as he called out: "My Queen?" Something is not right, the Jedi knew. It was eerily quiet for a palace under siege, and he heard not a single one of the nobles and advisers screaming in terror as they were when the Imperium had first entered orbit. Turning yet another corner, he was not surprised to see two corpses littering the floor down the far end of the hallway.

They wore the same, honorary crimson armor that Cal wore himself, blasted to smithereens by blaster fire. The guardsmen under Cal's command only wore this armor by his request; it was nice and shiny and more pleasant looking than the standard armor the Queen gave her other guards. He swallowed hard; he knew who they were, but he had to be sure. He had to know that he was not just having some sort of hallucination due to what he had witnessed on the battlefield only... what, twenty minutes ago? Force help me...

Moving forward slowly and painfully, the young Jedi knelt down and confirmed his fears. Masema... Galvin... The look of sheer horror at the prospect of imminent death was still plain on the the young Galvin's face, and Masema's was one of hard acceptance of it. They didn't deserve this... Hash didn't deserve it... He could feel anger welling up inside of him, and upon pushing that catalyst of the Dark Side away, the tears began to flow. He caressed Galvin's cold, pale cheek with his un-gloved left hand with his index finger, gritting his teeth and trying to keep his emotions in check. "They will..." he began to say, but cut himself off.

For a moment, he just sat there, staring at the two of them, and then Cal-Doran began to ball.

Pounding his fist into the ground after who-knows-how-long, the guardsman rose, his legs wobbling slightly. Hearing the sound of heavy footsteps just around the corner, the young Jedi bounded off toward the opposite direction, wiping his tears away as he went.

Soon, after rounding several corners and staying as far away from any blaster fire as he could, Cal found himself finally at the Queen's Royal Ballroom. All the nobles should be found here, Cal remembered. The rest of the squads of guardsmen were to escort them here so they could debate on where to head should the fighting reach the palace. But Cal-Doran could not hear a single sound within the room, or sense a single presence. Slowly putting his hand to the door, Cal took a deep breath, and went in.

The place was largely empty, save for the usual furniture and tables and whatnot surrounding the dancing floor. And save for the almost-dozen corpses strewn towards the western doorway. Slowly making his way toward them, the Jedi unsheathed his phrik-weave blade and tightened his grip on his belt, where the lightsaber from the Mon Calamari Jedi that had saved Cal from the Dark Side was clipped. Kneeling down to examine one of the bodies, he recognized it as the heir to a less-than-noble family that had less-than-large influence here in Theed. He was only sixteen, if Cal recalled correctly. His body was still smoking from the cauterized wounds inflicted all around it. Lightsaber, Cal knew.

Suddenly, it occurred to Cal-Doran that the assailant could still be within, waiting for more unsuspecting nobles to come in seeking refuge. Masking their presence with the force, he reckoned. Rising, the man called out, his voice echoing throughout the ballroom:

"You Sith may enjoy massacring the innocent for sport, but how about fighting an armed opponent? Or have you gone soft since the fall of the Alliance? Too many cushioned pillows and prostitutes?" His brow sweating, the Jedi tried to hide his unease with a nervous laugh and a small grin.

You'll fight on my terms now, Sith bastard. One on one... fair.

 

[Logan]

The journey into the palace, and subsequently into the ballroom had been largely uneventful for Vecna. There seemed to be relatively few guards roaming the outside corridors, most of them must be busy setting up defenses near the front door while they wet their pants in preparation for the coming Sith onslaught, Vecna assumed. The ones that he did encounter were merely cut down without much word or thought on the Kushari's part, they were just small obstacles in his way to slow him down; and he couldn't have that, no sir. He moved through the hallways of the palace in relative silence, using the scent of expensive perfumes that clung to the air to navigate his way to the crowd of Nabooian Royals that had huddled inside of the ballroom. There had been only a few men who stood armed when he passed through the threshold, but their attempt to defend against Vecna had proved to be largely frivolous. He cut each of them down in turn, taking a particular moment to savor the deaths of the younger ones in their magnificent clothes, still barely dirty even though there were dozens of soldiers dying outside to protect them. And for what? Vecna never understood people's fanaticism when it came to things like Queens and Royal families. Did these guards not understand that their lives were entirely expendable these people? It didn't really matter in the end, Vecna thought, if they knew it or not. The world needed pawns and kings, and far more of the former than the latter.

It was up in the rafters of the ballroom that Vecna found himself absorbed in these musings, sitting silently perched on a large support bannister than ran the length of the room. He noticed Cal-Doran as soon as he pushed his way inside and watched with sadistic delight as the man inspected the mangled bodies Vecna had left strewn worthlessly on the floor. He recognized him too, not so much by his face but by the massive Kushari foot-sized dent that was in the front of Cal's armor. This had been the man he'd tangled with outside, Vecna found it mildly surprising that the weak Jedi hadn't succumbed to a blaster shot by one of the Stormtroopers outside. Then again, cockroaches usually did find a way to live through everything. Everything but the exterminator, that is. Vecna smiled curtly at Cal-Doran's goading even though the Jedi couldn't see him, picking his teeth free of excess flesh with one of the young royal's cracked ulna. Human wasn't a taste that the Kushari particularly enjoyed, much too stringy for his taste, but he'd been positively starving after the fighting that'd occurred outside. Unfortunate for those in the ballroom that he'd discovered them before the royal kitchen, but such was life sometimes.

Letting his body slip off the edge of the bannister Vecna fell quickly and silently onto the cool marble floor, the pads of his feet making a soft tapping sound that echoed slightly in the empty ballroom. Both blades of his lightsaber ignited in the same instant, casting a soft orange glow onto onto the albino-white fur of the great Kushari. The blades of his weapon crackled menacingly like they too were starved, hungering for the blood of another Jedi. Vecna held it in one one massive hand as he stared at Cal-Doran from the center of the ballroom.

"Take up your arms then," Vecna said, his voice echoed like rolling thunder. "so that you can die at least pretending to be the man you think you are."

 

[Jaime]

As soon as the massive Kushari landed on his surprisingly light feet, Cal chuckled. Somehow, he knew that this giant cat and him would be dancing this dance for some time. Attempting to avoid even a glance toward the lightsaber at his belt, in order to keep the Kushari off guard and unaware of his extra weapon, Cal brought his sword up into a defensive stance. I need a plan. Swiftly glancing around the room before bringing his eyes back to the Sith assassin, the young Jedi just noticed the large chandelier hanging over top of them; he had been in this room plenty of times to have just let it go unnoticed.

At the Kushari's taunt, Cal-Doran paused; the man he thought he was... What kind of man do I think I am..? Surely he was not a coward; he had defended the gates of the palace, for some time being the only skilled Jedi there. Am I arrogant? No... never again, not after this. After reflecting for a full moment while starting to slowly circle the Sith, Cal decided that he would know what kind of man he was later.

Cal had never had the opportunity to train in any lightsaber forms except for the standard, training regimen-like Shii-Cho. But, as he read up on, the form was developed to be a semi-transition from the ancient Jedi's swords to the weapons they used today. So, there were still elements of old strike, parry, swing in the form. He decided to employ the form using only his sword for now; perhaps it would throw the Sith off to make him think he knew only how to fight with a metal blade. What am I thinking, he's probably already noticed the damn lightsaber already. Kriff me, kriff everything... Now closer to his target, Cal would stop circling the massive cat, and start lightly striking at him, any contact between their two weapons creating clouds of sparks and a loud, ear-piercing sound. One jab at his leg, one light swing at his other, and then jab at his eyes.

Knowing that the Kushari would be making his own, more furious assault, Cal prepared himself, calling the Force to him to aid in dodging the brunt of Vecna's attacks upon the Sith's offensive. Whatever he did not dodge was met with his blade, sparking in all directions as the Jedi backed away. The key to this fight would be to stay on the defensive while wearing the beast out using light attacks and keeping just out of reach of the double-bladed lightsaber. Should be easy enough... hopefully.

After lightly probing the Sith's defenses, Cal-Doran twirled quickly on his heel to make his first, true attack, and attempted to spin away from the front of the beast to his side as quickly as possible. He wasted no time in swinging the blade in a wide arc to attempt to slice the Kushari's side open, then immediately spun away to keep just out of reach of whatever attack the Sith would throw at him... hopefully.

 

[Logan]

The probing technique was a common one employed by most fighters insecure in their own abilities, or in other words fighters who were the antithesis to Vecna. He allowed Cal-Doran to poke and to prod at him with his sword, deflecting and parrying the blade away as easily as one would bat away a fly. The massive Kushari was in no rush to end the Jedi who had chosen very poorly his last opponent - because that's exactly what Vecna was going to be - and was going to do his best to savor the last moments of Cal-Doran's futile attempts to stave off the reaper before succumbing to the fate he'd consigned to the moment he stepped foot into the ballroom.

Without attempting to truly press an advantage onto Vecna, Cal-Doran allowed the cat to keep his focus entirely on the Jedi's movements and to take stock of what exactly he would be dealing with in a one-versus-one scenario. It didn't appear that his opponent was employing any particular style of lightsaber combat outside of the basic utilization most forcers were taught when they were still children, something that did not bode well for the man considering Vecna was a seasoned practitioner of the Niman style as well as a learning adept at Makashi. Capitalizing on the time to study that Cal-Doran had allowed him, Vecna was able to follow the Jedi's first true attempt to strike him with a swift parry with the bottom blade of his lightsaber. The Kushari would spin along with Cal as the he attempted to keep distance and spin away from him, keeping his front facing the Jedi as best he could.

Thinking quickly, Vecna would pull the force into him before allowing it to explode outward in a powerful blast of telekinesis aimed directly at the Jedi's legs. There was enough force behind it to send the Jedi sprawling across the slick ballroom floor, and if that was indeed what happened Vecna would take little time to pounce upon him lightsaber in hand, ready to impale Cal in whatever part of his body he could reach first.

 

[Jaime]

Damned furred beast, he thought as his first true attack sparked against the crimson blade of his opponents lightsaber. Cal was not ready for any attack to come his way yet, and he knew it; he was only prolonging the beating this trained Sith was going to give him. From what I can tell, this one is some sort of assassin. He was able to infiltrate the palace in the heat of battle without being caught. From the looks of it, he was tasked with killing the Royals... and my Queen's court. Sparing a quick glance for the deceased administrators, Cal realized his true purpose for fighting this tyrannical assailant. He was not prolonging his defeat or death, he was allowing his Queen and what remained of her family and court to escape.

Cal-Doran had a purpose... and he would see that purpose fulfilled as best he could.

He never felt the push of forced air, but he did feel the smack of the hard ceramic tile floor against his bearded face. Or was it his skin that made that smacking sound? Either way, pain spread throughout his body, and he instantly had an earsplitting headache. Spitting out some blood, the Jedi just made out the blur of massive, furred muscle coming straight at him from above, and his red blade coming straight for his armored chest. It won't hold, and I won't be able to deflect it... with the sword, anyways.

Calling the Force to him, he applied it, somewhat successfully, to his quick roll to the side, and if the Kushari assassin didn't slam his saber into the ceramic flooring and somehow diverted his attention to the fleeing Jedi, Cal would rise to one knee as best he could and call the taken lightsaber at his belt to his hand, igniting the green beam of light. With both sword and lightsaber in hands, Cal-Doran would immediately go on the offensive, swinging his steel in any way he could in wide arcs and calculated jabs while deflecting any attacks with the saber, somewhat tiredly.

After a while of slash, parry, jab jab, parry, slash slash, parry, Cal would then quickly bring his lightsaber and sword up both and attempt to make a quick, calculated swing in a semi-x formation, attempting to slice at the Kushari's eyes with both weapons. Right after, he would leap back a distance to try and evade the Sith's attacks.

 

[Logan]

The blade of his lightsaber sunk deeply into the ceramic floor of the ballroom, semi-molten stone pooling up along the sides of the blade as it melted a clean hole into it. Unable to wrench his weapon from the ground quickly enough, Vecna saw through his peripheral vision Cal-Doran roll to his side and clamor up to his feet. That was when he saw the ignition of a lightsaber accompanied by a bright green glow, and that is when Vecna realized that dispatching this Jedi might be a little more difficult than he thought. Pulling his lightsaber up and to his body in the nick of time, Vecna parried Cal's lazy jabs and slashes while keeping a relatively close proximity to the man. There weren't any visible holes in Cal's form that Vecna could see, that was until the Jedi brought both of his weapons up into an X formation and attempted to cut at his eyes. That was Vecna's first opening and he was going to make damn sure that he seized it.

Holding his lightsaber vertically with one hand in the middle, Vecna used the top blade to catch Cal-Doran's own weapons in the dead center of the X - his own physical strength more than enough to prevent the Jedi from being able to push into and through his defense and slash his face. Feeling the resistance loosen slightly as Cal made an attempt to leap back away from him, Vecna's tail whipped around his body so that the three banded blades clasped near its end would slice a nice gash into the back of the already fleeing Jedi's legs. Then, summoning the force to him, Vecna would let a powerful blast of telekinesis burst in the vicinity of Cal's chest - hopefully the combination of the sudden gash to his legs and the explosion of force energy would be enough to send the man sprawling, or at the very least push him off kilter enough for Vecna to follow up.

The cat had patience though, and up until this point Cal had barely even pressed Vecna in any sort of physical sense, he could keep this up all day if that is what the Jedi wished to do. Vecna had no qualms about killing an exhausted opponent, it just made them less likely to squirm when he ate their still beating hearts.