Duel Desecration of Jedha | Jedi vs. Sith

[Aelys]

Darth Strosius

Right across the side of the Sith's head came the deactivated side of his saberstaff. Aelys was pleased to see that the Sith retreated now that he had claimed the first strike. Letting his hand slide along the length of the staff again, he took a more comfortable stance, shifting to face the Sith as he tilted the sapphire beam at a forty-five degree angle in his opponents direction.

Save for shuffling forwards, Aelys didn't press the attack, instead watching the Sith retreat those handful of steps with an obnoxious look growing on his face. The first look that held a shred of emotion since the two had encountered each other. "It's a wonder you've survived this long." And then the Sith was moving, a bold overhand strike against an enemy with longer reach. Aelys shifted to his favoured side, his left - the Sith's right, the saberstaff rising up to meet the crashing blade as he stepped. Angling his staff to his own right, he shoved in that direction, across his own torso in an attempt to knock the Sith off balance before his left leg lurched out to kick at the back of his knees to trip him up.

"You're supposed to be a challenge." Years and years of terrorizing the Outer Rim and the Tingel Arm, and this is what the Sith had to offer? Aelys' features settled back into his mocking sneer. "You kill unarmed people well enough, but now you falter? Pathetic." All Aelys felt was disappointment. As if his entire life leading up to this point had been for naught.

 

[Zaavik Perl]

JEDHA // TEMPLE OF KYBER
S H A D O W
NEW JEDI ORDER

「 LURCH INTO THE FRAY 」​

Zaavik ran against the tide of fleeing pilgrims. Anyone could have seen this coming. Both sides were growing increasingly bold. Nothing was sacred, and nothing was safe. By the time the force had granted him the precognitive warning of their arrival, it was too late. Viridescent blade held high above his head, he waded through the desperate, fleshy tide.

The air tingled, his attention drawn to the left. A crimson saber careened toward him. Verdant blade came to meet it, as well as the bladed gift his master had bestowed upon him. Weapons trapped the assailing apparatus in a scissor. He pulled, turned once over, and trapped the opposing arm beneath his arm. His hips torqued, sending the sith over and onto his back. Grip adjusted, arm twisted, and with a stomp, Zaavik snapped the assailant's arm. A backward kick to the side of the head rendered full incapacitation.

Something nudged at him. Another one. Zaavik looked up just in time to catch the next strike. Green and Red surged, flashed, and undulated with parry after riposte. The Zeltron twirled, leaping to an overhand strike. Ataru's impact giving him the quarter to take the advance. Sabers locked, and the two struggled. Zaavik was unlikely to win a test of strength, this much he knew. The heel of his boot tapped against the ground, ejecting the vibroblade beneath his toes.

He kicked forward, sinking the blade into the Sith's hip. He winced, grunted, and his push faltered. Taking the opportunity, Zaavik seized control of the weapon arm. Twirling himself beneath the arm and behind as if they were dance partners. He kicked the side of the Sith's knee from behind, sending the blade in again. The enemy dropped to both knees. He switched feet. Slap, Crack, Crunch. Three kicks to the side of the skull, the breaking of bone, and the loss of consciousness. He released the arm of the limp Sith, letting them fall to the floor with a thud.

Zaavik took a breath. Little time for reprieve was given before a flash of red materialized in his mind. A beam from the tip of a weapon headed his way. His saber- No, that won't work. Zaavik lurched backward, the charric streak whizzing past his head and leaving an unpleasant smell in the air.

He reached back and retrieved his own blaster from the concealed holster. Offhandedly, he pointed and fired back.

Mlow Eman'outther ​

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

T H E _ W O L F
THE NEW JEDI ORDER
Jumpsuit | Concord Brawn | Lightsaber
Adriana Fortemps

DEATH IN THEIR EYES​

That acidic voice, that reviled beauty. He recognized the Lord Inquisitor immediately. Her. The very same who'd threatened to take it all from him. First she'd implicated Allyson Locke into her web of deceit with Loske Treicolt and Ryv threatening to follow on that day. Borosk. The most bitter of defeats.

She had the audacity to come to this sacred place, pluck him from the host of Jedi and dare move to sever the head. He'd respond in kind, Maynard once more delving into the frigid embrace of another baiting combatant in the making. He didn't care, for all the damage she'd done, he'd end her. There was no respite, no quarter to be given. They'd made that mistake too many times before, but he would never be the one to be held accountable for a Sith escaping, turning another into their dark clutches.

He'd end every single one he'd come across.

The Lord Inquisitor was no exception. She'd meet the same fate of all those buried in the ashes of Ravelin, Felucia, Korriban...all of it.

Honing in on his mortal visage, he channeled every fiber of his form into that sole decisive end.

"I don't care. Waste your breath all you want, only answer that awaits you is in the world beyond." His cobalt blade ignites again with crackling defiance before he lurches toward her, swiping the saber up and toward her abdomen with both hands clutching the hilt before thrusting from that raised position toward her collar bone.

For what she did? He'd spare the semantics. He wanted justice, vengeance.

 

[Mordecai Zambrano]

Day-dreaming and lethargy had dulled his senses; a lethal, dangerous combination in the midst of conflict.

Yet Mordecai remained still and quiet, his mind far away from the haphazard battle raging below. Thoughts of home, of family, and why things happened the way they did. Thirty years ago he would've been sat atop Rhaegos, screaming for battle and glory whilst setting the world on fire. Campaign after campaign had sobered him up quickly, especially when that guise of invincible youth was tossed out of the window faster than a live grenade.

The Sith Lord blinked, quickly realizing that he was no longer alone.

The snap-hiss of a blue blade and the bloodless cry of some nameless Sith warrior echoed past the din of battle. Mordecai peered downwards to watch it all happen without a word. Then rose, squaring his shoulders towards the grav-lift entrance as he awaited his interloper.

Perhaps he was coming for hot tea and discourse on socio-economic theory? Doubtful, considering there was a rapidly cooling corpse of a Sith warrior just thirty feet below him. Poor kid.

Iroh Gedari

 

[Violet Horne]

Darth Daiara

"B-but..."

The Force clashed against her once, forcing her two steps back, where she settled down and tried to make sense of the situation. She knew (theoretically) that being a Jedi meant fighting the Sith. Fighting evil and all its shapes and forms. It shouldn't matter that this Sith, this creature, was about her age and looked so young, so fragile.

"...she is so young..."

This part wasn't for Aradia.

Young? Young? She is going to impale you on that stolen lightsaber!

The second push threw her into the wall. It might have caused a concussion, being thrown into it so hard, but something moldy and damp secreted itself from her skin. It cushioned her back and caused her to bounce back ever so slightly. It happened between heart beats, so fast that Violet didn't even notice or blip at it.

The lightsaber?

"That... that doesn't belong to you." Violet said quietly, suddenly more focused. The oversized blade in her own hands swept to the side, dashing the stolen lightsaber between them to the side. She felt strong... stronger than she had any right to be. Violet knew instinctively what to do next, even though she had never performed the maneuver before.

A flick of her wrist and pieces of furniture detached itself from their surrounding, flying towards the Sith, trying to keep her off balance.

"Dark shrinks away in the face of Light. Surrender... or be destroyed." As Violet stepped forward to meet Aradia she suddenly blinked sheepishly. "That means kark off by the way."

 

[Darth Wyrm]

Elpsis Kerrigan

Perhaps he should attack her, while she was struggling with the tangible illusions.

Instead Wyrm was busy dusting off his cloak and clothes off the flames still stubbornly attaching to them. Cursing while at it. "Damn you, die already, you useless fire!" There was no replacement for looking in control, while you were kicking a Jedi opponent's arse. It would have been better, if Elpsis had been a Jedi however.

Thematically more appropriate.

But the snail couldn't get everything sadly.

Finally, with the flames out, he turned his attention to Elpsis. Right in time to see her forming a wave of fire in her arms. A blink. See, the Feoorin might be a tangible illusion, but the SNAIL was not. A fireball? Sure, yeah, but a whole room on fire would cook it alive. Which would mean having to experience being ripped through death and back into a new cloned croke body.

Nobody was eager for that.

The illusion LEAPED through the window, shattering it, to avoid the inferno. It was unleashed and burned the room behind it whole. Sadly Wyrm couldn't avoid being burned entirely. The snail was in the boot after all. The heat burned one of its eyes and head antennas, shearing it shut and causing it to scream in agony.

This pain seemed to do nothing for the illusions however.

In fact? It only seemed to make them more real, forcing their existence into reality through the sacrifice of blood, sight and pain.

They formed sharp blades, serrated edges, replacing the arms that had been burned by Elpsis' fire tornado. The mass of these illusions were starting to crowd out reality. Obscuring the hallways, the rooms, a sea and wave of bloody and gorey limbs stabbing and prodding and tearing. Limb from limb and Wyrm seemed eager to collect as he stepped around the corner to meet the pyromancer once more.

Half the Feoorin's face was melted now, as if to show the damage on the snail's body and reflect it.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Aelys
---------------------

His eye narrowed, fixing the other with a glare as his attack was easily repulsed. He nearly lost his balance as well, mostly due to a leg suddenly kicking him right at the back of his knee as all of his momentum stopped; thankfully he managed to react quickly and keep his balance with only a little stumble as he was shoved back. "I'm very lucky evidently." The acolyte muttered under his breath, his free hand wrapping around the hilt of his weapon alongside the other as he contemplated his next attack.

Alisteri was not a very sadistic individual, he preferred simply killing his enemy rather than drawing out their pain for some sort of satisfaction. Right now however, if he won then he knew that he would enjoy it far more than he should.

Of course, that was if he won.

The masked man scoffed, going in for a thrust at first before feinting and bringing the blade of his sabre up swiftly; aiming to either split the saberstaff in half or slice the Jedi's face. "The fact that you think anyone can be truly unarmed only proves your naivety. First rule of being in a war Jedi, everyone not with you is your enemy."

He couldn't help but smirk, all too eager to heckle his enemy as much as possible. "Then again, with all that brainwashing you Jedi receive, I suppose it's inevitable."

 

[Dagon Kaze]

Serixibis

Dagon squinted as the sun's blazing reflection across the spear illuminated his eyes. He sized up his attacker - pureblood, decorated as a sorcerer but wielding a warrior's weapon. There wasn't much more thinking to be done as the essence of chaos itself ran amok around him. The Jedi shifted his balance and stance into the typical Soresu form, circling cautiously the Sith.

"There's no way for you forward, Sith. Leave." he retorted, tension rising.

A feint of an upward slash followed before he probed her defenses with a slash across her midsection.

He had the reach advantage, he ought to use it.

But plans never survived contact with the enemy.

 

[Serixibis]

\\. Jedha, The Temple of Kyber
\\. ok I post Dagon Kaze

The two figures circle on the sun-baked steps of the Temple, two wolves sizing each other up before deciding on where to bite first. The reason, as ever, did not matter so much. Violence was its own excuse.

And judging by how this Padawan was willing to make the first move, that was something he understood as well. The abrupt feint almost caught the warrior off guard, if only because such aggression was not the standard for Jedi, for his kind.

A thin-lipped and bloodless smile curls across Serixibis's lips as the upward strike redirects and arcs toward her midsection, the smaller warrior dancing backward with the shuffle of black booted feet as her war spear is spun around in hand, the cursed metal meeting his seeking saber and battering aside the blade before returning to a more guarded position along her hip, the savage weapon held level toward Dagon.

While she did not wield a lightsaber it was clear that this Sithling was, at the very least, a trained combatant. A warrior of some description before her time as an Acolyte began, one who currently wields a weapon that she is intimately familiar with...even if along that weapon's haft there are already signs of damage. The two parries she had executed already show on the device and it's quite possible that further contact with the Padawan's blade would see the thing sundered.

"What is it you are taught, Jedi? Peace? Serenity? Love? Such things cannot help you when reality comes knocking down the steps of your beloved temple. You are all instructed that life is precious, a thing to be guarded. But how can such great value be given to that which cannot protect itself?"​

Her words come with a blade behind it, a brief flash of dark cloth and rattling trinkets all the warning Dagon receives as the spear is rocked backward and then thrust forward and up toward the lumbering Padawan. It was a quick thrust, choppy, and sent with little fanfare in an attempt to catch the young man off-guard.

 

[Iroh Gedari]

( Mordecai Zambrano )

He was expected.

Iroh made no effort to hide, no attempt to conceal his presence at this point. As the doors to the lift opened he stepped through them, seeing the other individual was waiting for him. As Iroh lowered the hood from his head he sized up the man who stood before him. An older man, but a warrior nonetheless. As he studied the man’s face Iroh realized he knew who this was.

Mordecai Zambrano, brother of the previous Sith Emperor. Quite the powerful warrior, but from his staying up here he had no taste for butchery. Perhaps he could be made to see sense.

“Mordecai Zambrano, I have come to ask you to take your forces and leave this place, peacefully.”

Iroh’s hands came down to his sides as he looked the Sith in the eye and spoke with an even voice. There was a level of firmness, but not of anger or confrontation. His face remained impassive and resolute, blue eyes staring with conviction. He hoped to avoid more bloodshed than what was necessary.

 

[Darth Interitus]

The great work was still underway. The Sith while still in the form of the Sith Empire, there were still other rising forms emerging from the darkness. Those that were not among the more streamlined form of Sith. For Interitus he was one of those that was among the shadows. Covered in dark robes, a mask hid his corrupted face. While the sight of the temple of Kyber in front of him held a great deal of history.


Jedha has remained a ruin for centuries, only half a dead world since legend tells of its surface being utterly destroyed. The ruins remained a place of devout worship for both sides that include both dark and light. For Interitus it was nothing more than a decaying ruin just like the world surrounding it.

With many presences he sensed both light and dark. Seeing as how pilgrims were even disturbed by the dark man that strode forth. Who he saw in front of him was a woman reeking with the stench that was the light side. Approaching her slowly his hands on what looked to be an ancient looking hilt.

“My this is a surprise... I didn’t expect to find a Jedi here among the ruins of this world.”

Jyoti Nooran

 

[Darth Kizash]

​

There was no vocalization of the pain I felt. Getting up from the small crater my body made was rather difficult for me. Once again the surge of hot white fire shot through my nervous system, stealing the very air I needed from barely functioning lungs. And once again the anger and hate for my own condition ignited the fire of my own darkness. A fuel brought on by agony itself. It was all my own.

The air shifted growing ever more frigid. I came to a stand and tilted my head scanning meters ahead of me in search of this Jedi knight. His lightsaber gave away his location. That green hue in the distance. " Jedi." I scowled and smirked saying the phrase. Leaning forward I let my own inertia carry me forward till my movements became a blur of pale scarred flesh and a vermilion hue trailing behind me. Dodging left, right, hurling over obstacles and through already crumbling walls. The impacts at that speed was devastating and I couldnt get enough of it.

My mind was drowned in a state of battle. Came as no surprise to me when the jedi knight glanced behind him. You should of saw his face. As if he saw a ghost, the startle boosted his speed and pushed the young man to a new found limit.

He should be grateful. Grateful for what I gave him but also for the new threat that I barely noticed coming my way. Some other Jedi( Romi Jade ). A female by the looks. Where my head was turned, my body followed. The knight I would catch up to in a minute. My vermilion blade spear headed my charge. We would clash very soon and a maiming strike on her thigh was all I planned to do for now. I didnt need the whole leg off, just a simple light cut to start this all.

 

[Cali Ziiva]

"Huh?" Cali stared back at one of the pilgrims she walked beside. "Oh, I'm here kind of for the same reasons everyone else is, really. Though I'm not with any of the Jedi Orders. There's a lot of them lately, right? No, no, I was trained by a Jedi Master though. Yep," the Zeltron puffed out her chest slightly as she held her head up high, "learned all about lifting rocks and and swinging sabers. The rest really came later, which is kind of why I'm here. See, I never really picked a Kyber crystal and I think it'd be kind of neat, you know? Also if there happened to be a really big one maybe I could negotiate to take it off everyone's hands for some really interesting inventions."

Wasn't like she had anything to be ashamed of. Who cared if she didn't spend years meditating or listening to endless lectures? Okay, okay, all the people that'd been forced to do that. But matter of fact was Zeltrons didn't need all that. Alright already, the real matter of fact was almost no Zeltron would ever bother spending so much time doing something so unexciting. Well, Cali had special circumstances helping someone out and just happened she learned a few things in the process. After that, well life took some crazy turns and one thing after another she was a certified Jedi Knight.

Fine, she wasn't a Jedi Knight, but some would definitely certify her.

Speaking of being certifiable, however, look... there were some Sith!

Wait, Sith?

As those not versed in combat sought to flee or find cover, Cali's hand reached down and ejected the lightsaber disguised as a blaster at her hip. The blue beam of energy slid out in time for her to catch a crimson one swung toward an unarmed man. "Could you, like, not? It's totally unfriendly." Panic? Fear? Abject terror? Mostly adrenaline. Sudden Sith always got the blood pumping because they were all sorts of passionate in the anti-Zeltron ways. Cali though couldn't really let them spread the hatred. Protecting unarmed people was totally her thing -- if you ignored chocolate, inventing things, throwing massive parties, counseling people, trading secrets, selling creative means of messing up authoritarians' days...

Tag: Daeron

Spoiler: OOC

Daeron you don't have to be the one initially engaged, we can move them aside for whatever entrance you'd like and get to clashing.

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

Location: Outside the Temple of Kyber
Gear: Lightsaber, Robe
Writing Partner: Val Drutin

Leaping backwards he barely made it out of the way from the oncoming attack. Who was this maniac?

"Ok, first off, not a blonde."

He wasn't too familiar with this type of lightsaber combat. Never before has he battled a fencer. But everyone knew the best time to learn was in the middle of the fight.

"And secondly, are you a Jedi or a Sith? Because most Sith I know don't carry around purple lightsabers."

With an awkward position of his lightsaber he struck forward, almost certain his attack would miss. If he could level out the fight and get this man to battle normally, there was a good chance this battle would be a win in the books.

 

[Calin Harr]

Location: City Streets

Damn. It had been one hell of a week, that was the first thought that had run through Calin's mind as he prepped for this whole thing. One day, he's living the high life, next he's hiding among the Sith and getting ready to blast the Jedi right between the eyes. Stupid Pykes and their stupid Deathmarks, the Acoylte had broken off from most of the heavy fighting, no point wasting his hide up there. He had decided to skulk around the streets and look around for the weakest targets, or as some people would call it "cowardice". Idiots. If anything it was hiding with style, with a possible dash of murder.

Satisfied with a street mainly cleared except for a dozen or so corpses, he walked down it's length: kicking at a handful to see if they were still alive. None were, unfortunately. And with a grumble, Calin fished out his lightsaber, keeping both of his LL-30s at his hip instead this time. The crimson blade ignited with a snap-hiss, and the rugged man admired the weapon for a few moments, as if it was the first time he had held a lightsaber, and the second he entered into some sort of "ready stance"...it was blatantly, horribly, obvious that was exactly the case. But regardless, having a murderous glowrod filled the man with a bit of glee, could only imagine the look on the poor sod's face he had "borrowed" it from. Chuckling to himself for a brief moment before going stern enough and taking a few steps forward.

"Alright now, show yourselves! Make all this nice and easy on me..."

He had thought he was only speaking to the dead, unknowing that he had the audience of Desbre Gensan , it seems the ambushed had just become the ambusher. That good ol' Harr luck.

 

[Adriana Fortemps]

// Lord Inquisitor Fordyce //
// Jedha //
// Maynard Treicolt //

​

The violent lunge had been unexpected, to say the least, Jorryn paying for her negligence in leaving her saber unignited. She threw herself onto the backfoot as she avoided the first swipe of the sapphire blade, a red blade igniting to awkwardly deflect the second strike as it came for her chest. There was no room for finesse in the move, the aggressiveness of the man having been unexpected.

The Lord Inquisitor had assumed he'd be similar to the blonde woman she met at Borosk, hoping able to get a few words out before blades clashed. The man in front of her didn't seem to share that woman's patience.

"Touched a nerve did I?" The words didn't come out as sharp as she wanted, strain removing any smirk that she had. Maynard hadn't offered her the opportunity to weave any of her charm.

Her Crimson blade swung wide at Maynard, attempting to plant her back foot behind her to regain the footing she so rapidly lost. The Lord Inquisitor needed a crack in the man's offence. An opportunity to regain a proper stance. The heft of his swings held more than their apparent weight, driven by emotion and force. Jorryn couldn't afford to back pedal against this opponent.

 

[Dagon Kaze]

The spear lunged at him in a flash under the tunes of curios and ornaments, he side stepped fast but not fast enough. It tore through his jacket and grazed his shoulder leaving behind a burning trail. He found his footing again despite the sensation of boiling water melting his flesh. Sweat broke free, teeth grinded and his fists clenched tighter the grip of his saber.

"Death is natural, Sith'ari." Dagon retorted. "You may preach it but you fear it the most."

"Let go of your fears." he reached out in empathy through the Force.

Serixibis

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

Darth Wyrm

Elpsis would have found the Sith's yellling and attempts at taunting amusing, were it not for the fact that he was still an actual threat. Alas, he managed to escape the inferno, though she sensed he was in pain. But then the illusionary limbs morphed into serrated blades. They came from seemingly everywhere, drowning the hallway into a sea of swords. Acting on instinct, she she slashed with Inferno to carve through a sword.

The Force surged through her lightsabre, for it acted similarly to a Force-Imbued Blade. The offending blade was shatttered and dissipated. Then another. But there were many blades coming for her. Some were simply deflected by the tough plating of her Phrik armour. But the blades tried to strike her all over, trying to probe under the armour plates where they were less thick. Lacerations to her bodyglobe and various small cuts over her body ensued. She grit her teeth, wincing in pain as she tried to defend herself. Then a blade lacerated her thigh, cutting deep enough to draw red viscera from her muscle.

Pain surged through her body, searing into her body and causing her to buckle. Ere she could respond, precognition screamed inside her mind. Quickly she swung her blade to block the strike and pulled her left hand back, but not quite quick enough. A finger from her off-hand fell to the floor, as agonising pain hit her. Blood trickled down. Her fury grew. A telekinetic shield, wielded as a battering ram, just as Siobhan had taught her, hammered into the swords and pushed them away. It was, of course, only a temporary reprieve. But she looked upon the Sith, and in the brief window of time she had gained, she truly saw.

The illusion was realistic, right down to the damage to the face the Feoorin had sustained. But she had her Force Sight, and she focused on it. With enough focus, it could strip away lies. The pain she felt through her empathy did not come from him. Or rather it came from a specific part that was supposedly unburnt. The smell of burnt flesh wafted from the floor. She doused the real Sith's hideout with scorching fire.

 

[Aelys]

Darth Strosius

"Coward," muttered Aelys under his breath as he watched the Sith stumbling away. His lazy eyes began to widen, opening to a normal degree from their typically half-lidded dip.

The Sith could've been just as inexperienced as Aelys, and he wouldn't know it. That possibility didn't matter to him. The initial thought of Sith training spawned thoughts of training that were even more rigorous than Jedi training. More intense, far more dangerous. Whatever the training consisted of, it wasn't enough.

Seeing the Sith approach and preparing for a thrust, Aelys' saberstaff arced downwards with the goal of intercepting the thrust. When the Sith instead swapped to an overhanded attack, the downwards plunging saber continued on its path before beginning to rotate clockwise, following it to Alisteri's left, Aelys quickly shuffled as he tucked out of the way of the Sith's crimson blade carving through the bottom end of his staff raising up to meet his blade. Too slow, the deactivated side of his saber was sheared off. Unsure of the damage down, Aelys didn't waste time in capitalizing off the oddly positioned Sith.

Jerking his left hand forwards, his shorter lightsaber hilt shot forwards in a bid to slash through the Sith's left leg. At worse, the Thyrsian's blade would carve through the Sith's leg at kneecap level.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Aelys
---------------------

For a brief moment, the Sith felt relief as he saw that his feint had worked; his blade inching ever closer to the Jedi's face. Then his opponent moved, his strike instead slicing off a piece of the saberstaff. His eye narrowed, his teeth gritting together in frustration. Had he been just a bit quicker or more accurate, he could have potentially landed some form of hit.

Oh well, no use dwelling on past mistakes right now.

Alisteri had other problems anyway, like the blue blade currently aiming to rob him of his leg. In a split second reaction he did the only thing that he could think of to escape such a fate, he fell backwards.

He fell backwards with dignity of course.

Unfortunately, he wasn't quick enough to fully escape the strike. The movement caused the blade to miss his knee, but it allowed the strike to instead graze across the front of his leg. A yell of pain escaped him as he hit the ground, one of his hands instinctually moving to grasp at the now singed part of his leg. It was a smoking trail from just below his kneecap almost to the top of his boot.

And there was also the fact that it hurt like hell.

With a growl interlaced by a hiss of pain, his uninjured leg shot out to try and kick the Jedi right in his groin whilst he swung his sabre in a general slash with no real goal other than to distract his opponent.