Second Time Around

[Sergei Petrov]

unning, Sergei Petrov pursued none other than Daniel Solus. From rooftop to rooftop along the skyline of Nar Shaddaa, he gained ground against his Mandalorian rival. The man killed several of his soldiers, interjected in his operation on Cato Neimoidia and left him like it was nothing. No way was the Imperial Agent going to let him escape this time. He may have had a jetpack, but it could only last so long. With his own jump boots, Sergei could make certain he was anchored to the ground for good.

He leaped. His boots roared. Raised high into the air, the naval officer tackled the Mandalorian. Both men tumbled toward the next rooftop. They grappled with one another, desperate to determine who would be the landing cushion. In the end, Sergei prevailed. With a loud thud, he smashed Daniel into the gravel-covered roof. A gasp escaped him. Without wasting a moment’s notice, the Imperial brandished his blaster pistol and aimed it at the man’s face.

“You seriously thought you could escape?” He chuckled and pressed the gun past his chin. “I hope you like the taste of plasma.” His thumb readied on the trigger and placed the barrel into his mouth. Daniel locked eyes with him.

Sergei gasped awake. Eyes wide, fingers clawing the sheets, he realized it was nothing but a dream. A terrible dream. Trying to catch his breath, he glanced down through the sheets and past his half-exposed figure. Then, he saw it. “Andraste’s tits.” He cursed before pressing the back of his head into the pillow. He held both hands to his face, desperate to hide his embarrassment and disgust. “You have to be kidding me.”

After few minutes of laying in bed, Sergei stirred himself awake. A trip to the wardrobe, a quick shower. He didn’t bother to shave. Unlike when in the Deep Core, the man didn’t have to care about maintaining a clean and professional appearance in the Outer-Rim. No less in Imperial Hutta, where the worst of the worst resided. Where he was now stationed after reports of rebel activity.

Loud knocking resounded against his door. “Commander Petrov, sir!” The voice bellowed through the thick plating. Decked in his usual armored figure with weapons in tow, he swung the door open and eyed whoever thought it fine to interrupt him at three in the morning. “Sir—“ A guard said. “—the HoloNet. It’s down. There’s riots in the streets. It’s a revolution!” Sergei paused to process what he just heard. “Wait, what?”

Next thing he knew, the man was out in the streets of Nar Shaddaa. Armed and ready, he looked to quell a growing riot. Little did he know that he would be coming face to face with his enemy, rival, nemesis: Daniel Solus. But he would be ready. He always was.

@Lucid

 

[Daniel Solus (old)]

"CHARGE!!"

Daniel screamed the word into the semi-darkness of Nar Shadda. His beskad was raised high in the air in one hand. He rode atop a half-tame Gundrak that he had released from the pens with Solone and Burkheart. They had vanished to do other things, but Daniel had taken it upon himself to free the captive people who were forced to fight against their will. They had fled eagerly, many choosing to arm themselves and follow Daniel into combat as he tore across the city looking for more.

He had found something worth supporting and seeing through. A march of people jad formed. They were slaves, servants, attendants, everyone under the thumb of the wealthy and powerful Hutts had taken to the streets. They marched as a riot, flaming bottles being thrown every which way and anything vaguely Imperial being ransacked. The Imperial Hutta had not been idle though; scores and scores of security troopers poured from the side streets, they rappelled down from hoversleds and they started dealing death. It sickened the kind Mandalorian. No sooner had he seen what was happening than did he scream his charge.

His people flowed forward, behind the Imperial line. Caught unawares, the soldiers fell to inglorious, honorless death--speared, stabbed or shot from behind. Daniel felt proud but he wasn't idle either. He urged his unlikely steed forward, the massive creature wading into a pool of Imperial men. It's four arms dealt efficient and brutal death, claws eviscerating and teeth tearing. It was an impressive sight and utterly ghastly to behold. Though, one of the men got lucky and managed to land a series of bolts between the creature's eyes. As it fell, Daniel himself took action. His jetpack flared to life and he rocked up into the air. Blaster bolts streamed around him trying to find purchase but none did.

Once he was high enough, Daniel arrested his movement and, with his left arm out in front triggered his wrist rocket. He didn't even wait for it to connect before he pulled grenades from his belt and thumbed them alive. He dropped them, letting them cook as the fell and they exploded instantly on either side of where his rocket has struck. Rivers of blood flowed amid the screams of broken men.

Somewhat queasy Daniel landed amid a gaggle of rioters, looking for his next series of targets. It didn't take long. Armor, distinct in its bearing moved off to his left and Daniel though he recognized it. He grinned behind his helmet. "Hi Sergei!!" he yelled. "What's up buddy?!"

@Deviant

 

[Sergei Petrov]

ate must seriously hate Sergei if it chose to bring him together with Daniel Solus once again. Not after the fight, not after his terrible dream, not in the middle of an uprising. The Imperial Director could not believe what he was seeing and who he was hearing. He refused to. However, his distinct armor, his endearing tone, and bizarre proclivity for murder was impossible to ignore. He was participating in the riots, butchering his men. There was no way he would get away with it. Not again.

“I’ve been waiting for you, for this moment, since our last encounter.” He called out. Beneath his armored helm, his eyes drilled into the other man’s visor. Sergei couldn’t stand him. His hand slid down his chest plate and into a hidden pouch. Fingers found a single frag grenade within. As he walked towards Daniel, he activated it and counted down in his hand. “Are you ready to finish what we started?”

As soon as he finished, he hurled the grenade toward the Mandalorian with startling speed and surprise. It would fail to strike the ground, but it would explode mid-air and within several meters of the man, hardly enough to do real damage but enough. Sergei only wanted a distraction. Something beyond his own words. When the grenade did burst into an assortment of fire and shrapnel, his hands were already on his repeater. Clicking the trigger, he fired a volley at the other man.

Distracted from the grenade and the ensuing blast, the Imperial hoped his shots would land well. However, knowing Daniel Solus, he was bound to push through. They always did. That was why Sergei came prepared for the worst. Prepared to take down his enemy, the man he had plagued his operation on Cato Neimoidia and his very dreams. Maybe if he killed him, he would be free of it, and brought one step closer to securing his future in the Empire.

@Lucid

 

[Daniel Solus (old)]

It seemed that Sergei was not as thrilled to see Daniel as Daniel was to see him. It made him a little sad, Sergei seemed so nice but always tried to kill him. However, this time, Daniel was a little different. He was focused, as Sergei walked toward him, he clipped in another round to his wrist rocket...just in case. It was good thing he did as it put Daniel's hands in the perfect position to trigger his jetpack. He saw the man lift his arm and new it was trouble. He didn't bother to think what type of grenade it might be, he simply pushed a button on his wrist and his jetpack roared to life once again.

Bolts from Sergei's repeater followed him upward as the greande exploded harmlessly below him. Daniel wasn't playing around. It seemed that Sergei really did want him dead--how tragic!--and that meant he had to reply in kind. He angled his body forward as his jetpack hurdled him through the air at an oblique angle. He drew his heavy blaster pistol as he flew and fired three shots to Sergei's side, landing neatly on the top of a lamppost, his gription boots holding him steady and the blaster went back in its holster, only to be replaced in his hand by his disruptor. He was in range, just, and as his hand lifted it from the holster his finger, pulled the trigger.

"One, one thousand," he counted silently.

@Deviant

 

[Sergei Petrov]

round them, the battle raged on. Sith against Mandalorians, Imperials against rioters. The whole planet was consumed with chaos and anarchy. One couldn’t even fathom its extent throughout Imperial Hutta, if they could even consider it a province of the Empire anymore. Sergei had no idea, and the thought of not knowing scared him. Not that it mattered. His sole focus was Daniel and making sure he was dead before the riot was over. Maybe when the Imperial Navy arched over the skies and brought the planet to heel, they might praise the Director for his efforts. Name him Admiral.

Wishful thinking. Sergei knew enough that the Empire was too weak-willed to bother holding Hutt space if they managed to rise up with such unity and ferocity. He was alone, the odds stacked against him, one of the most notorious men hovering meters ahead. Perhaps it didn’t look good for the Imperial, but he continued to push through. Survival was a must, and the only way there was by taking down Daniel Solus.

Capitalizing on the other man’s mid-air aims and speed, Sergei dashed toward the side. Or in other words, jumped. With his jump boots, used particularly for this battle, he launched to the side, narrowly avoiding the three shots and disruptor shot. His armor was lighter too, which made escaping the shots an easier feat, albeit difficult. Not that he was relying on chance or luck to avoid the attacks, the disruptor shot included.

Even if Daniel followed his trajectory, Sergei would have launched straight into the window of the nearest building. Glass shattered. His body rolled into carpet flooring. Some random woman screamed and rushed out of the winding apartment. Immediately rising up, he examined the room. Small but with an assortment of openings that led elsewhere. Other windows littered the walls, a balcony included. It gave him the perfect vantage point.

Settling in, Sergei decided not to risk exposing himself so early, not when Daniel knew he was inside the building. Instead, he slunk back, ready to dive away into another room or behind cover if the Mandalorian tried to fire a rocket or grenade into the room.

@Lucid

 

[Daniel Solus (old)]

Daniel keyed his jetpack in the blink of an eye. He launched from the top of the lamppost and chased after Sergei into the building, his disruptor held in front of him. He saw Sergei jump through a window just as he finished his count. Two, one thousand. The disruptor beam lanced out and through the window that Sergei had vanished through.

Daniel was hot on the heels of the disruptor beam, reaching the window just in time to see it streak past Sergei's head as he stood up from the ground. It connected with a rather beautiful paining of a lake scene on some forest world. Sadly the painting stood no chance. It, and a good chunk of the wall that it was hanging from, crumbled into dust and then the dust turned to nothing. It was a terrifying sight. A very bleak reminder of the fate Sergei had narrowly avoided. Daniel, however, was happy he hadn't disintigrated the man's head. Even if Sergei was trying to kill him, he still liked him. It just seemed that it would take a bit more to have the other come round.

Daniel barreled in through the shattered window, canceling his jetpack boost and drawing his sword as he did so. He was coming straight at Sergei, who still standing up, and his sword would arc through a vicious upward diagonal slash across Sergei's midsection as Daniel drew it from the loop on his belt. As the blade came free and started to arc through his attack, Daniel's feet landed on the floor, arresting his momentum and instead transferring it into his strike.

@Deviant

 

[Sergei Petrov]

hit. In spite of his speed and style, the Director narrowly missed the disruptor beam and watched the light pass inches above his neck. A hair-raising, and singing, shot. The bolt connected with a nearby painting, incinerating the entire piece and leaving a sinister impression on the man. All bets were off the table. While Sergei was going in for the kill, Daniel shared the same sentiment. Resistance was to be expected, he was just caught by surprise the shift in the Mandalorian’s persistence. It was unlike anything he was before. Now, he understood why Daniel was so feared to the rest of the galaxy.

He was even more relentless. Hearing the echo of his jetpack screaming toward the apartment Sergei fled into, he watched him slide straight into the shattered window and coast straight for him. Screeching to a halt, heels grinding into the carpet floor, the Mandalorian used his momentum to deliver a wicked strike into his chest plate. Maybe not enough to kill him if he maintained his position, but enough to end whatever battle they had right then and there. So, he did the next best thing. He moved.

While Daniel arrested his movement, Sergei countered by doing the exact opposite. With his lighter armor and greater maneuverability, his feet dashed back to avoid the midsection strike. The tip of the slash would sail inches past his armor, the sword hissing from the miss. Arms raised, the Imperial staggered away and into the kitchen of the apartment. With his hands free, he dashed behind the island counter. A set of knives sat beside the stove. An idea came to mind.

Before Daniel could get within reach to strike again, Sergei began plucking knives out of the rack and aimlessly hurled it at the Mandalorian. He continued to rush farther back to maintain distance, and when the knives were gone, he moved onto a stack of porcelain plates. He looked absolutely ridiculous doing it, but figured it might slow the man down before he thought through his next plan of action.

@Lucid

 

[Daniel Solus (old)]

Daniel wasn't expecting the Imperial to back out of his strike and scramble for kitchen knives and plates of all things. It was no matter, Daniel was faster and stronger than Sergei, after all. With deft ease he plucked the knives one after another out of the air, returning them to sender. The knives, returned with grater force and precision pinned Sergei to the wall, one knife catching the cloth under each of his arms, another two catching the cloth by his knees.

Sergei was pinned, for a moment to the wall behind the center island. It looked as though the owner of this apartment had been doing some remodeling, a large section of counter was missing and Sergei slammed right between it, throwing one last plate that shattered on Daniel's helmet. For a moment there was silence as Sergei flexed and pulled himself from the knives. He was quick, regaining composure quickly and coming back at Daniel with a shot from a blaster pistol he had manged to free from his belt and a nasty diagonal cross with his sword.

The blaster caught Daniel on the left shoulder, his armor catching the worst of it, though it still hurt and burned. He parried the cross with a deft turn, stepping in and catching Sergei's blaster hand with a quick move of his own. He forced Sergei's blaster arm away, his own blade ready to catch any retaliation. There was a brief moment where neither party did anything but stare at eachother. Which was fine by Daniel. Truth be told he didn't want to kill, or honestly really hurt Sergei so he took advantage of the situation to try a different approach.

"Waitwaitwait! Dude, wait." Daniel said urgently, some of the tension going out of his body as he spoke. "I didn't press all that hard when we fought before and I have no reason to do so no. Ok, yeah, I get it. We're supposed to be enemies and all, but...can't we just be friends? I think you're kinda fun! Wouldn't it be nicer to just go for drinks or ride a gundark instead of trying to blow eachother's brains out?" Daniel tilted his head sideways and it was obvious that he was smiling under his helmet. "If not, I guess we can continue this...but I won't play nice."

@Deviant

 

[Sergei Petrov]

Whatever knives he hurled toward the Mandalorian only managed to make its way back to Sergei. He took every precaution, made every effort, to avoid and sidestep the blows. Although Daniel was faster, more accurate, and while he failed to pierce his armor or slide between the seams, one or two knives did catch him by his suit underneath and fixed him to the wall. A momentary setback but nothing he couldn’t handle. He was cornered but nothing he couldn’t escape from. The odds were out of his favor, but the Imperial had a few more tricks up his sleeve too. He only needed the time do it.

Twisting away from the wall, the knives tearing off, he aimed his blaster and fired straight into Daniel. A close enough target, the bolt was sure to leave a mark, and indeed it did. His armor tanked the blow but Sergei surprised him with a wicked slash of his own blade. No way could the other man juggle both attacks. Except, he did. With a parry and spin, he forced his blaster to the side and locked swords. They were in a deadlock. The fight at a standstill. Tension settled between them, and so did an awkward silence.

Of course, Daniel broke it with some bizarre appeal. A demand to stop, a sudden explanation. Funny coming from him now that Sergei finally gained the upper hand. While he did bat away his blaster, it was for only a moment, and the Imperial already repositioned below his helmet. Inch by inch, he raised it to his chin, between the armor, ready to fire. But he didn’t. Instead, he listened. Why? He had his chance, to lay to rest those dreams and an enemy of the Empire, why did he hesitate?

“Seriously? Friends? I thought we went over this already.” He hissed back, not knowing why he answered the Mandalorian but finding it hard to stop. “Just because you think you can work your charm, flash a smile, spare my life— that I can just forget the fact that you’re a Solus?” He leaned in, close enough that he might see through the visor of his helmet. He was the one in control now. “You don’t have to play nice. I won’t either.” He held the muzzle of his pistol against Daniel. “In fact, you can play dead.”

He clicked the trigger— and nothing happened as he might have expected it to.

@Lucid

 

[Daniel Solus (old)]

As Sergei spoke, Daniel started to stammer and raise his hands above his head, one of his hands brushing the blaster by accident. He didn't want to die right here and he didn't think Sergei actually wanted that either. When Sergei finally clicked the trigger, Daniel screwed up his face, expecting to die but instead the blaster emitted an odd popping noise and the powerpack slipped from the hilt and clattered to the ground. It seemed that Daniel's accidental brush with his hand had dislodged the already loose catch. He sighed inwardly with relief as he swiftly regained the upper hand.

A stomp to Sergei's instep and a punch to the elbow was all it took to break the other man's grasp. Daniel slipped out and, instead of heading back out to the riot he needed to fuel, he turned and looked back at Sergei. He popped off his helmet angrily, his face was red and his expression annoyed. "Yes. Friends." he said. "You're all hung up on me being a Solus, you don't see me moping about because you're an Imperial. For the love of all that is holy, I'm the worst Solus ever. I ran a bakery before Raz dragged me into this mess. I was happy doing that, didn't matter then that I don't like to fight or kill people."

He shrugged, thinking of simpler times and how much of a toll the war had taken on him. Time was he never would have gone after Sergei as seriously as he had, but something had changed and he had nearly killed the man. If Sergei hadn't started throwing kitchen things, he might not have remembered not to kill him. It scared the Dopey Badger just a bit, to think about how much he had changed. But, at his core he was still the same. He looked back to Sergei, his face more thoughtful than Sergei had ever seen.

"Everybody is their own person and, I think, it's important to remember that...especially during wartime," he said slowly. "I know you know it, even if you're not aware of it. Otherwise you would have shot me rather than talking," he grinned, the expression returning his usual good nature to his eyes. "So. How about it. Drinks?" He made a shushing motion with his hand to forestall any immediate outburst to the question. "Not now, but later. After you've had a chance to sort out your hangups. I have a riot to go encourage anyway." Daniel gave him a casual salute and began to return his helmet back to his head.

 

[Sergei Petrov]

nbelievable. Sergei expected to end this miserable rivalry with a final shot but events took a turn for the nonsensical. Was he still dreaming? Was he still laying in bed, entranced? Everything was so surreal, but he knew enough to see this was as real as it was going get. Fate seemed stubbornly set against his crusade against the Mandalorian. That much was confirmed when Daniel smashed into his foot and against his elbow, escaping, ready to turn the tables. Except, he didn’t.

The other man slipped away and found enough space, not to finish with a wrist rocket, but to safely pop out of his helmet. He was visibly upset. Why? What did he expect— for them to kiss and make up, pretend the world wasn't the way it was? It was infuriating for Sergei to hear. Surely, he was glad Daniel was not diving in for a quick kill, but a part of him wished he was. They were enemies. It was the natural thing to do.

Instead, the Mandalorian decided to be more than that. Different, and the Imperial struggled to accept why or what was happening. The best he could do was watch and listen. Pressed against counter, mind rattled, legs like lead after his injuries. Even after his question, which Daniel refused to hear an answer from, Sergei watched. He was as stunned and floored as he was the last time they met. It wasn’t until the man put on his helmet and moved to leave that the Imperial acted.

Mustering his strength and reaching down to the kitchen floor, he picked up his power pack and shoved it back into his blaster. As Daniel jumped out of the broken window and rocketed into the air, Sergei stood by the edge and aimed. The man made an easy target, back turned and clueless on what was to come. Being a better shooter than a brawler, it was especially easy for the Imperial.

Eyes squinting, muzzle on the figure of his enemy— and he didn’t fire. He brought it down to his side, too reluctant. He made the excuse that it was simply a cheap act of balancing the scale. Dan spared his life, so Sergei spared his. It was nothing more than that. Except, of course, it always was.

@Lucid