To The Pits [Fabs]

[Qae Shena]

Sanyassa, Modell Sector

A planet full of bloodthirsty swordsmen who liked to fight each other just to see who was better and beat down on those little fuzzy Ewok rodents? Qae was in paradise. This place was great. Swordsmen like him, these people were all about inflicting pain and suffering in all kinds of new and nasty ways. Qae found himself perusing their wares - admittedly their wares were a little more solid blade than his favoured chose of coherent light beam of slicing doom. But that was perfectly fine. If they didn't want to get out of the stone age for themselves, then that was their thing. He was going to take their skill and test them all out.

In the arena, there was a slightly growing pit of bodies. They said no rules - his 'no rules' meant lightsabers against swords that couldn't block them. They weren't using all that many blasters. A couple were. They were starting to learn, admittedly. But that did not take away the base, visceral feel of his blade meeting flesh and tearing bodies apart in a detached, efficient manner.

It was a bloodless, highly murderous and extremely fun affair. The Nautolan's foot found itself on top of his newest conquest, emerald saber blade held out wide, laughing as he mocked the poor leather-skinned Sanyassans under his feet.

"Come on! Give me a real challenge!"

 

[Fabula Caromed]

The second the Bloody Pilgrim touched down, Fabula knew she had found an interesting place. Sanyassa was as gloomy as Dathomir in the spring, harsh and unforgiving. Every single creature on the planet radiated the soul of a warrior, for using violence to solve their problems. Fabula saw people carrying weapons in public. It would be far too easy for her to find someone worthy here.

She wandered around the city she'd landed in for a while, looking at the gorgeous efficiency of the local weaponry, the sheer art of the violence that broke out in the streets alone. This amused her for several minutes on its own, but after a bit something different caught her eye. A fighting pit, with all manner of commotion within. Fabs spent a few minutes just watching, trying to figure out exactly why whatever was going down was so out of the ordinary.

Or at least she'd intended to. It didn't take her more than a few seconds to see the distinct glow of a lightsaber, and the creature in the pit was most definitely not native. She watched him, his form, his movements as he dispatched with dozens of Sanyassans, cleaving their weak weapons and cutting into their bodies just as easily. The loss of so many fine warriors did upset Fabs a bit, but she was much more interested in the man down there who could throw them aside without thought.

The locals were getting fed up with his mass murdering spree, of course. A few had brought out blasters and were more than happy to move in to gang up on him. Fabula smirked, muttered a quick Song of Power to focus her energies, and leaped down. In true dramatic fashion, she landed, one hand down, directly in front of the locals who were about to start firing. They recoiled back and almost shot her instead.

Fabula, undaunted, just turned back to them and gave a soft smile. It turned quite a bit more psychotic as she stood to face the curious alien (Nautolan, planet Glee Ansem. Amphibious and biologically adapted for life underwater. Known for curious mus-aaaaaagh! Shut up, encyclopedia-brain!) in the middle of the ring. She reached down to her belt, manually unclipping her lightsabers and activating them both with a quick flicker of telekinesis.

Her face glowed orange in the bad lighting of the arena, which made her grin look all the more psychopathic. "For what use is existence without strife? Peace is a dull, staid story. Challenge is the true goal of life, the only worthy destination, glory." She could hear muttered words behind her, but she didn't understand the language well enough to make out what they meant. Of course, Fabula didn't care. Her Rage-yellowed eyes told everyone exactly what she was interested in.

 

[Qae Shena]

That sound. The ever-familiar snap-hiss of a lightsaber blade springing to life - two of them, even. It was a sound that drilled into the mind of every person who heard it due to its uniqueness. There was something of a grin flicking over Qae's features as Fabs landed in front of him, brandishing those blades. It wasn't every day you ran into someone with two lightsabers and really wanting to get into a brutal melee.

"Glory's fun," Qae said. "I think you'll make a good opponent. Let's see if you're all just poetics and talk."

Really, it was perfect. This one wanted a fight, this girl with twin orange sabers. It was a strange one. It wasn't every day you got to face off against a Force-user on a distant planet on this side of the Galaxy and Qae was not about to pass this chance up. She didn't seem like your ordinary Jedi - maybe a Sith, sure, but she didn't feel like one of those, either. The Force was mysterious that way. Well, if she wanted to take to the pit and fight him, then the Nautolan was glad to bring one. The grin on his face suggested that. Her eyes met his - Rage-powered darkness versus the total, lidless darkness of the Nautolan people.

And then he moved.

It was a simple opening move taken from the fact that he was a practitioner of Shii-cho; a two-handed hammer grip drove a vicious thrust of his saber wit two hands as he leapt through the air at her, blade intending to reach her midsection before his feet touched the ground only slightly to her left.

 

[Fabula Caromed]

Someone trained fighting against creatures and the Force-blind didn't have much practice fighting people who could leap through the air with a thought. Fabula could see his movement, and she recognized what it was, but she didn't have the practice or the training to prepare a counterattack. She could only defend, crashing her left lightsaber into his and sliding it to the side with a rough, graceless parry. The squeaking screech of lightsaber-on-lightsaber cut the air as cleanly as the two shining laser blades flying through it.

Having two weapons was an advantage against someone of more limited means, and Fabula didn't hesitate to exploit that asset for all it was worth. She struck out with her main hand, cleaving quickly towards his face. Whatever this curious fish-man could bring to bear, she'd test it early, so she wouldn't be surprised with it later. Even if she was, though, that would be exquisitely perfect. Surprises meant skill, and skill meant the most delicious of battles.

It was obvious she'd get a fight out of this one. She just had to pace herself to make sure she didn't end it too quickly...either by his death or her own!

 

[Qae Shena]

Momentum was a great thing. Although saber blades were essentially weightless, their contact was rough, almost magnetic. It was enough to hold something, generate force and push. Which meant that, when Qae's blade was pushed away, he could retain his forward momentum and take advantage of an open side, narrowly avoiding the main-hand slash through side-step and twisting in place to stay facing Fabula.

Yes, two weapons was mostly an advantage, but there was a reason most Jedi fought with one - it could handle itself in the hands of a skilled wielder. He stepped in again, this time with a flurry of strikes; first the diagonal slash from her right shoulder down, back across her waist horizontally which turned into a Shii-cho honour sash - saber held one-handed and the tip pointing straight down, hilt at the height of the head's crown, all to preserve attack momentum - and a slash from her left shoulder down. Really, it was a graceful set of strikes. Moreso than Shii-cho was typically renowned for, but then again people never gave it enough credit.

 

[Fabula Caromed]

As the Nautolan moved in with his little twist step, Fabula took a quick step or two to her right, maintaining the slow strafe. She knew she'd have to prepare for some kind of counterattack; combat was a constant dance of exchanges, strike and riposte, attack and counterattack. As expected, he was strafing right, so she expected an attack on her left. She wasn't at all disappointed.

His first strike was powerful. Her left 'saber alone was scarcely enough to block it, and she found herself stumbling in defense. She thought for a moment to counterattack, but there was no opening yet. The second attack, across her waist, was much easier to block. It was along the lines of the first, and she didn't have to work hard to bring her defensive left hand into its path...or bring in the right to support her. Two hands on a single weapon was strong, but two hands on two weapons was equally potent, with the proper angle.

With this knowledge, Fabula smirked at his final attack. One hand, one saber. She took crash of his blade against her right hand, holding it directly above her left shoulder with a backhanded block. The muscles of her right arm flexed as she took his attack with grunting perseverance, and it left her left hand free again. This time, from its position below his chest, it was simple for the little Witch-knight to bring it into an upward slice, aiming towards his chest with an angle diagonal to her own right hip, his left. The horizontal path would be hard to step out of. He would have to block (or so she expected).

She prepared for it. The moment the pressure on her right lightsaber relieved itself, she brought it into a diagonal opposite the first, her left foot stepping back to make room for the right-downwards cross. Halfway through, she stepped back again to prepare whatever she could of a defense. It wasn't much, but she didn't care. She was swimming in pure elation at having found yet another skilled enemy to test herself against.

 

[Qae Shena]

He would have to block... or he'd have to move. Either way, Qae was in a particularly bad spot. However, instead of blocking, the Nautolan knew the value of good movement. He wasn't a beefcake imbecile, too bulky to use fluidity. Hell, he grew up entirely literally around fluidity. Smooth motion was required for living underwater. So, when faced with a difficult problem, one must be like water - graceful and fluid, but strong enough when provoked to slaughter cities. Such being the case, Qae rolled.

Not a barrel roll, mind. Just a little shoulder-roll forward, enough to put him on the ground somewhere to Fabs' back, which put him in the unique position of 'how do I enact beatdowns' - such as using a low sweep of his leg, hooking around her closest ankle, conveniently one she'd just stepped back on to get her momentum going, and pulling so that she'd hopefully fall on her butt, giving Qae enough time to recover and start again. It was a fight now, alright.

 

[Fabula Caromed]

"Gak!" Most duelists wouldn't be so acclimated to being sent flying so early in their training. Fabula, however, had had a very uncommon "training," mostly involving large critters that could fling her across a forest clearing as quickly as she could approach them. She'd developed an equally uncommon talent for righting herself from being sent falling very quickly. After all, when you're knocked into a treeline the third time, you tend to get a knack for landing on your feet.

As she fell backwards, Fabula tucked into an upper-body curl and tossed her left-hand lightsaber into the air. With her left hand, at the apex of her backwards roll, she pushed off and landed back on her feet without a moment's lost time. She pulled her off-hand weapon back to her through the air as she charged back towards this surprisingly slippery little fish-man. At least he was keeping it entertaining. She actually laughed when she charged. Time of her life.

He was on the ground when she came at him. This gave her the advantage for once. Fabula did a quick, powerful overhead chop towards the center of his body, forcing him to either block or be bisected. Of course, she had done the same thing before, and he had just dodged it. With that in mind, she angled it to her right, and came in with her second lightsaber on a low, horizontal slice to catch the direction he'd most likely dodge in.

Force him off balance. Back him into a corner and his adorable little hilariously-ill-advised combat rolls would be as much of a weakness as an asset.