Duel Galactic Kaggath Round 1: Fenn Stagg vs Balun Dashiell

[Balun Dashiell]

THE FIRST GALACTIC KAGGATH - ROUND ONE: FENN STAGG VS BALUN DASHIELL
INVENTORY: Field Apparel | Lightsaber | K-16 Bryar Pistol
TAGS: Fenn Stag

​

One furious strike after the next.

Despite having landed the blow to the back of the Mandalorian's legs, Stag was still on his feet in an impressive display of martial strength and open defiance. Balun had no choice but to fend off against the Crushgaunts as Stag sought to beat Balun back with overarm strikes, powerful blows that threatened his upper half, particularly inspiring fear around taking another strong hit to the Face. Utilising the dual-handed grip around the hilt of his lightsaber, Balun desperately sought to parry each, his guard high in a bid to avoid another blinding injury.

With the fury of the Mandalorian's brutal throws, Balun recognised the change in Stag's body language before realising the intent behind it. He had provided a violent front, only to feign low and bring his left rising up towards the young Force-User's jaw. The uppercut connected with a similar burning pain that had taken the bridge of his nose, something audibly crunching as the armoured fist met Balun's open flesh, slicing open a large gash across the right side of his cheek as the shear kinetic force behind Stag's strength sent Balun doubling backwards, stumbling against his own feet as his world was rocked around him. He saw everything in doubles, both the last glimpse of his opponent as he turned away, as well as the surrounding Wroshyr branches, followed by the distorted cheering of the audience from somewhere afar.

It was miraculous that he hadn't been knocked out cold, if not for Tutaminis, which he had projected several moments earlier to protect against the Mandalorian. He hadn't anticipated the uppercut, however, and where the Force had retained his consciousness, Balun felt the terrible pain that coursed through his mouth as he tried to gasp and breathe between clenched teeth. Something wasn't right in the way that his jaw felt, even in how his teeth tightened against one another, only adding to the stabbing ache that encouraged his eyes to water.

Still stumbling, Balun's form had been eradicated entirely by the single shocking strike. He turned around, looking to find his Mandalorian opponent once more, yet he swayed upon every step. He tried to pull himself together, to find his concentration, but his head shook violently, and he struggled to see anything through the constant proverbial dagger he felt lodged within his jaw now.

'Kark me. Wide open' he cursed within, knowing full well that such an opportunity placed him in a position of compromise few might have the good fortune to overcome. He only needed time. Time to collect himself. Time to see straight. But Stag was smarter than that. Balun had seen this much through the way he conducted himself.

"Speech".
'Thought'.​

 

[Fenn Stag]

​

Fenn didn’t relent. He didn’t hold back. There was no pause, no respite, no break in his assault.

He gave Balun no time, no pause. He pressed forward, pushing himself back into Balun’s immediacy, into his guard.

His Beskad came down, hard overhead. A feint, really. But it wasn’t his true strength in his attack. His knee shot forward and upwards- driving towards the Jedi’s kidney. Pain. He wanted the Jedi to feel pain. But not to maim. Not to kill.

Enough however, to hopefully get him to yield. Death may have been the Sith way, but it wasn’t his, nor his people’s. He had no reason to kill the Jedi. The Jedi was, as he saw, an honorable and good person.

But this was still a fight, a duel. So he wouldn’t hold back. He would fight him per his wish.

Better or worse.

 

[Balun Dashiell]

THE FIRST GALACTIC KAGGATH - ROUND ONE: FENN STAGG VS BALUN DASHIELL
INVENTORY: Field Apparel | Lightsaber | K-16 Bryar Pistol
TAGS: Fenn Stag

​

In his absent stupor, Balun's eyes followed the rise of the Beskad, mistakingly giving way to Fenn Stag 's successful feint, which distracted the Rogue Jedi from the rising knee. He hadn't seen it, missed the shift in Stag's body language entirely for all that his mind rocked and reeled. The Mandalorian's knee found its mark, burying itself within the pit of Balun's abdomen and forcing the air from his lungs with a pain-filled gasp. His knees gave way as if all of his physical strength had left him as quickly as his voice. He collapsed upon the hard surface of the Wroshyr branch, forced to be seated upon his backside without the will to soften his impact.

Knees bent, legs back against his side as he lulled forward, his hair fell around his face as he sat there. It would seem that he had not the awareness nor the strength to try to climb his way back to the fight. Blood poured from the gash across his cheek, as well as his broken nose, which had been awoken once more in the aggressive motions they two had assailed in a bid to combat the other.

The cheering from the crowd had all but been drowned out. His eyes squinted against the pain that haunted his conscious mind, darkened shadows playing in jest, threatening to all but shut his eyes for him. The grip of his right hand around his lightsaber had loosened, and yet he had not dropped the weapon but resigned to rest the blade against the bark of their battleground floor with a consistent sizzling of plasma burning against the wroshyr wood, the smell indistinguishable from the blood that he swallowed in an attempt to clear the back of his throat.

Balun's head swayed, trying to lift his gaze, yet were it not for his neck, it may have fallen from his shoulders. "I yield", he coughed the words, looking to Fenn Stag, who stood overtop of him, the height from where he sat indeed making the Mandalorian look like a goliath of a warrior in comparison. There was no shame in his resignation, for he found himself unable to recover, and were he to force Stag to continue the fight, the Mandalorian would have free rein over the remaining minutes of the duel, were Balun to last even that much longer.

Bloodied and beaten, his face had already begun to swell.

With his right hand, he thumbed the activation stud of his lightsaber, instantly recalling the blade with a hiss of energy as if swallowed by the emitter itself. The amber light ceased to be, further reaffirming Balun's decision. Against the constant searing pain and concussed view of their combat arena, he couldn't even find the strength to offer the Mandalorian the respect that he would have desired, the merit that Stag had earned from their duel together.

"Speech".
'Thought'.​

 

[Fenn Stag]

A fight worthy to be fought.

Balun Dashiell

​

He let the pain linger, but he disengaged when the Jedi fell. Fenn had a curious habit- not engaging his combatants when they were not able to defend themselves, or provide a challenge. At least- here.

Or maybe, just the Jedi.

Fenn sheathed his Beskad in it's place- where it normally would've rested in a mag-locked sheath parallel to his jetpack. He took a deep breath, reaching up to his helmet, disengaging the locks. There was a hiss, a rush of air as his suit unsealed itself. Fenn was sweating, his warpaint having washed off. He looked up at the tree, fires breaking out above them. He took a deep breath, not relishing in his victory, but taking a quiet moment of reflection.

"I accept."

He said, lowering his gaze to the Jedi. He offered a hand to him, looking at the Jedi directly in the eyes.

"You fought well, Jedi. There is no shame to be had. I will not take your blade from this contest."

Another long pause, his hand outstretched in an offer of clemency, mercy, or perhaps most importantly- respect and admiration.

"Rise, Jedi. You are defeated, not done."

 

[Balun Dashiell]

THE FIRST GALACTIC KAGGATH - ROUND ONE: FENN STAGG VS BALUN DASHIELL
INVENTORY: Field Apparel | Lightsaber | K-16 Bryar Pistol
TAGS: Fenn Stag

"I accept."

He said, lowering his gaze to the Jedi. He offered a hand to him, looking at the Jedi directly in the eyes.

"You fought well, Jedi. There is no shame to be had. I will not take your blade from this contest."

Another long pause, his hand outstretched in an offer of clemency, mercy, or perhaps most importantly- respect and admiration.

"Rise, Jedi. You are defeated, not done."

The proximity of the motion was enough to alert Balun's wavering consciousness, his eyes widening a little larger in an attempt to get a better look at what had been placed in front of him. Fenn Stag 's open hand, a gesture of mercy after a hard-fought victory, Balun saw it for what it was, an offer of respect, and he reached out, taking his help in climbing back to his feet.

To be standing at the end of such a duel, largely with the assistance of his opponent, having carried the younger man's weight as he rose to his feet, Balun swayed, unstable in his footing yet standing all the same.

"I knew what I'd signed up for...-The rules were clear", Balun replied raspily, as though the breath required to speak had been difficult and painful. His throat felt dry, yet thick with blood. His face was a mess, smeared with shades of red and brown, particularly dried around the nose, and bruising had begun to discolour his skin across the left side of his jawline, swollen and tense.

Reaching across towards Fenn, Balun turned his wrist, fingers unfurling around the hilt of his Lightsaber. "Whether you decide to use it, or it becomes a trophy...-It'd be poor sportsmanship of me not to hand it over. You've earned it, and let's be honest, there were moments during that fight where you held back.

Balun went to chuckle, yet found only a sharpened pain streak across his left side and causing him to sputter instead.

"Speech".
'Thought'.​

 

[Fenn Stag]

​

Amidst the cheering crowd, Fenn was characteristically quiet. He picked up the lightsaber, turning it in his hands. It was lighter than he expected. It was a weapon that had defined Empires, freed the oppressed- every heroic act and every atrocity he could think of, had been committed or prevented by the weapon wielded by the Jedi, or others.

He returned it to the outstretched hand, curling the Jedi's fingers around it gently.

"The victory is mine. Your jetii'kad is not mine to take."

He offered an arm for the Jedi to lean on, and began to make his way to the entrance to their arena.

"We are both in need of some bacta- come Jedi, I would like to lie down."

 

[Balun Dashiell]

THE FIRST GALACTIC KAGGATH - ROUND ONE: FENN STAGG VS BALUN DASHIELL
INVENTORY: Field Apparel | Lightsaber | K-16 Bryar Pistol
TAGS: Fenn Stag

​

As the Lightsaber was returned to his hand, Balun's fingers curled around the hilt, his brows furrowing slightly. It felt wrong not to relinquish the weapon, and yet at the same time, he was also relieved. He had taken a risk, gambled and lost. He knew the cost of this, but the weapon had been created during his younger years before he had run from the New Jedi Order. It had followed him every day since then, and it had seen real action, and also protected Balun in times of great peril. To say that he wasn't appreciative of the Mandalorian's sentiment would be lying to himself.

"Dashiell Retrofit", Balun replied, speaking his company's name; "In future, should you need anything", he conceded. His right hand moved to link his Lightsaber back upon his belt, while his left arm took Stag by his shoulder, gladly accepting the warrior's assistance to exit the arena. During the battle, adrenaline had fueled him, helped him to ignore the wear and tear of his body, yet now that the threat was over and civility returned, exhaustion had already begun to set in.

"A hard drink and a cigarra sounds like a dream", Balun added. He wanted to smile but could only grimace as sharp pain reminded him of the need for protective headgear in the future. "Spast, I think you might've broke my jaw or something, it hurts like chit", he muttered, trying not to open his mouth too widely as he spoke each word with intended care.

"My family's gonna kill me", he added, a final thought before fading from the public eye.

"Speech".
'Thought'.​