Tue May 15, 2012 6:35 pm by Vee Telil
*The day was hot. The air was arid and stifling.
Marko hated every blasted second of it.
Strange thoughts for a Jedi, yes. However, at least the hate was well founded. Standing on one a few hillocks in the wasteland that was the outskirts of the Bassandroan wilds was a mountain of a man, freakishly tall almost.
He exuded an aura of stinking darkness, putting the worst of after tatses in Marko's mouth as he stood but ten meters away, staring intently at the dark-clad figure, face hidden under a cowl. In fact, that only visible portion of this one's actual flesh was the permanent smirk, customized by a single sharp tooth protruding from the lower lip, set against the deep blue of the man's skin.
In contrast, Marko was absolutely average. Everything about him screamed normal for a human male, from his fair skin to short brown hair and brown eyes. His face had nothing remarkable to speak of; no big nose or sharp cheekbones, or even a high forehead. Even his Jedi robes, in the same rusty browns as the scarred and dead terrain in this wasteland, would not assist in identifying Marko had he been in a crowd. This was not exactly unavoidable however, seeing as the Jedi Order had a limited color palette to work with notwithstanding.
But now it was time to battle. His opponent seemed to be there just for the purpose of unleashing the pent up annoyance and sense of betrayal Marko felt towards the Council. Having him shafted to the sidelines in the midst of a war! Nothing had happened on this planet in months, nay, years! And yet, Marko had been drawn to this very location by the Force, as if the darkness was waiting to be vanquished by a man of the light.
It was the Force that was the only constant left in Marko's life. If he were to lose his connection to it, for even a split moment, he would surely die, if not naturally then by his swift and own hand. Nothing else made sense, and nothing else needed to make sense.
From his belt, Marko extracted a single, also unremarkable lightsaber hilt. He held it in the grip of a Jedi prepared to execute the chaotic moves of Form VII: Juyo. It was balanced rather even between his fingers and his palm, which would allow him to alternate his attack pattern and angle at will between the two for variances in power and dimension. Truly, this was the only notable thing about Marko. His lightsaber combat style was not perfected by many, and practiced by few, but he knew it well. Vaapad was off limits to one of his meager stature; only a Jedi Knight, but he had little interest in it. The rigors of Juyo were enough for him.
In response, the Sith carefully pulled back his cloak and sniffed with nostrils thin as slits. His nose was pronounced however, almost contradicting the overall pinched look to his dark blue face. His eyes flashed a mixture of gray and yellow. The effect was both repulsive and mesmerizing. Marko shook his head to clear the total result off, and then activated his lightsaber, the yellow blade coming to life with a hum.
The Sith sneered, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. He did not remove his cloak as Marko had done prior to approaching the Sith, and he then summoned his own lightsaber. It was sharp and spiny and curved, revealing his apparent use of Form II: Makashi. Clearly this battle would be a knock-out or a complete draw.
Marko vowed to tow the line. He vowed to kill this Sith; not only making the galaxy a better place but equally satiating his hunger for a release. Not very Jedi-like, but at this point Marko hardly felt like a Jedi any more.
"It is strange Jedi, why you come here. I sense the anger. I feed on it. You are fueling me even now." said the Sith, waving a mystical hand, complete with decrepit vein structures and sharp nails. As if on queue, the strench of the Dark side radiated in even more potent fashion from the Sith, and Marko stepped back in surprise and disgust. He responded with venom rivaling the Sith's, "You do not own me. I will crush you."
"Truly?" the Sith asked. But Marko charged, letting a near primal scream vibrate from the depths of his chest. His lightsaber was held high, ready to smash down on the Sith. He easily activated the red blade of his lightsaber and flourished it in the time it took Marko to traverse the distance between them, and then sidestepped as Marko came on hard.
The first exchange was lightning quick and adrenaline filled. The Sith fluidly parried each of the chaotic, powerful strikes Marko threw his way. To the chest, neck, right thigh, left temple...they were flying everywhere, but the Sith's form was as consistent as Marko's wasn't, and despite giving ample ground, the Sith held Marko completely away from scoring damage.
Then, when Marko attempted a sequence of two moves twice, the Sith expertly caught the pattern and engaged in a hard twirl of his blade, utilizing two hands -- uncustomary of Makashi -- nearly beating inside Marko's guard. The Jedi responded with a cartwheel to his left, barely avoiding an attack that would have severed his non-weapon arm at the shoulder. He jabbed and uppercutted in the same instant, trying to get the Sith before he could recover, yet the dark man easily converted momentum into power and redirected both hits towards the ground. The exchange produced only sparks.
Marko backed off, knowing the Sith would take a moment to gloat. Indeed, Marko was already flared up, his breath heavy. The Sith was not yet even close to being completely worked up. Makashi utlimately conserved energy, and this Sith proved no exception to the rule.
The Jedi charged again, going in high and then altering hits from left-to-right and low-to-high until he was making sure attacks were coming in at all angles on the Sith. Not one followed a pattern of any sort, and soon the Sith was giving ground again. He did have plenty to give, being as they were hardly in a confined space of any sort. This time, Marko refused to let up for even the slightest moment, giving his all to continue advancing, even unwisely pressing the attack when the Sith made parries that would otherwise provide a step in his advantage. In this way, Marko's robes began to become tattered, gaining burn marks and cuts as he pressed the very risky advantage on all cylinders.
The Sith's saber was one massive blur. It stayed expertly confined to a small space, keeping the angles compact so as to keep from letting the absolutely unbelievable range of motion from getting inside his guard or outmanuevering his saber. He always applied the angles, getting slashes to run off at angles and causing jabs to sail just past him.
An overhand to his shoulder: angled away with an up high block. Uppercut to his left hip: forced up past his left shoulder with a rising parry. Jab to his solar plexus: sidestepped and pushed upwards followed by a cut to the Jedi's right bicep.
Eventually, the Jedi would tire measurably and the Sith would press the advantage for a quick kill. It was simple biomechanics; no mortal could hold up such a frenzied barrage forever.
What the Sith did not realize was that he was slowly being backed up an incline, which then dropped off into an impact crater from a nuclear explosion from a long-ago Clone Wars battle. The incline was decidely minor as the passage of time wore down the overall effect of the terrforming, but the fall was still as abrupt as ever. Marko honestly did not realize it either, as locked in the battle as he was.
Finally, Marko had a split-second slow on an overhead smash, and when the Sith blocked with a two-handed grip, he pushed the saber past and planted a booted foot in the Jedi's chest, sending him sprawling. Marko, retaining his saber, looked up from one knee and blasted the Sith in the chest with the Force, sending him up the incline further before he could press the advantage. There was to be no advantage for this massive Sith now, or ever.
He leaped in one swift motion, lightsaber wheeling about, up to the Sith, flat on his backside. The hits came in a frenzy, high low and all about the downed man, creating sparks and always closing the defensive gap around the Sith. It was to end in moments...
Then once again Marko slowed for a moment as a gust of win put dust particles in his face, and the Sith capitalized, getting a hard parry in close on Marko's hilt and forcing him to retreat a step. In that one moment of retreat, the Sith used the Force to spring up and back. Ever farther up the incline, but equally farther away from Marko and his insane barrage.
It was such that the Sith was obviously a Master in his art, able to use the very smallest opening to bring down an entire attack phase while simultaneously defending impeccably. However, it was such that he knew no offense versus Marko's chaotic assault. The tables were turned against the Dark side in this bout, and it was such that the Jedi was the incensed individual. The Sith decided as Marko charged again that he was too complacent in his judgement, and simply waiting for an opponent to tire before finishing him off was the Jedi way, and a direct application of Form III, the defensive art.
No true Sith ever defended by nature, yet, it was all he was doing. Time for a track switch.
Marko made a single attack before the Sith parried with excess speed and spun around the Jedi's guard to get a hit in on the Jedi's left shoulder. Marko blocked, but by then the forward momentum was completely lost. The Sith began raining a barrage of fluid and precise cuts and jabs in on Marko, working his way around the body in a very concise and organized manner. While in sharp contrast to the Jedi's attack style, it contained all the vigor and effect of the attack, moves amplified by the Dark side and the intensity of the Sith's momentum.
Not used to defending, Marko began forcing himself in closer against every attack the Sith made. Because these attacks were not sweeping like Form V or IV, the Sith had no problems with the very close quarters, but in the space of one millisecond, Marko had been able to sneak in a single unpredictable cut and managed a distracting hit on the Sith's abdomen. The cloak smoked from the clean hit, and then the Sith's concentration was absolutely broken.
In so close, Marko rained unexpected blows not only from his flashing saber but also from his elbows, legs, and hands. The Sith was driven back under the pummeling, trying to get even the slighest edge but unable to even think straight. It was then when the inclince increased near its apex that the height difference between the two actually made a difference.
Previously belated parries by the Sith began to force Marko's guard up high in order to save his head and shoulders, and then a well-placed snap-kick put Marko back and off of his groove. It was then that the Sith pressed, getting lightsaber strikes and bodily hits in on Marko as had been done to him moments before. Quailing suddenly under the heavy-handed assault, Marko once again won out with his unpredictable style. The Sith's downfall was his organized method, Marko decided. His anger not only clouded the Jedi's thoughts, but also provided the complete randomness needed to complete the style of combat. Marko himself could not predict where he was attacking from next.
Just so, the Sith retreated once more, having received the butt of the lightsaber to his cheek bone, splitting the skin and causing blood to smear across his face and drip down on the ground, even splattering Marko in the close quarters. The Sith retreated, finally breathing just as hard as Marko under the beating being taken. He then reached the precipice in full, and the Force alerted him to his near-imminent drop to his doom. With no manuevering room, the Sith voluntarily pressed back into Marko, taking elbows and kicks head-on and even succumbing to a minor lightsaber glance as well.
In that moment, though, the Sith grabbed a hold of Marko's wrists and held them up. Marko responded with hate-filled strength, and telekinetically surpressed a kick by the Sith to his groin. The struggle then turned more Force-oriented than physical as they grappled, waging an invisible battle of the wills.
Looking into each other's eyes, the pair of Force-users tried to bash down the other mentally. If there was but one slip, that one would fall easily and leave stunned, prepared to die in the next instant. Marko battered at the Sith's consciousness with the same chaotic, random fashion as his lightsaber blows were, and soon the Sith's iron will began to wilt. Nothing could stop the fiery explosiveness behind Marko's attack, even the cold unbeatableness of a Sith's mind.
In a blink, Marko telekinetically pushed the Sith's right foot, and his mind flashed away from focus. Then Marko penetrated deep into the gap, jabbing hard and fast and without abandon, causing the Sith to cry out in pain as the mental attack became all too powerful to hold up. Soon, the Sith's mind was beaten into a semi-conscious state, where his lightsaber was held limply in the gnarled hand.
Marko then exited the Sith's mind and attacked with the lightsaber once more, the Sith offering token resistance until he was once again backed up with his heels on the brink. Marko flashed a strange combination, and finally disarmed the Sith, sending the lightsaber tumbling away down the incline behind him. The Sith raised his arms to unleashed lightning; Marko could smell the ozone about to collect, and then he jabbed his yellow blade forward, right through the Sith's heart, cutting off the electricity before it could properly form.
A gasp escaped the Sith's lips, and then he tumbled backwards off of Marko's blade, and into the crater below. The Jedi turned, pushing the smell of burnt flesh from his mind, and snatched up the Sith's fallen lightsaber on his way down the incline. He limped slightly from his injuries, and nearly fell over twice on his way down, but fierce determination pushed him onward, against all convention.*