Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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I'M GONNA FIGHT EM OFF! (Open Bar Fight)

Switch

Don't make me bite you...
Switch zeroed in on that cigarette as it returned to the man's lips, the tip emitting an inviting glow as he inhaled that wonderful smoke. It was a temptation that made her knees weak, her lips parting as she fought the urge to light up. It had been a weird day, that was for sure, and the woman was having more and more trouble remembering why she had quit. It got even worse when he left in unguarded at his side. "Switch." It would be so easy to just reach out and take it, right? "Lemme just..." She had just begun to inch closer, her plans to snatch that cig in motion when a newcomer appeared out of nowhere.

Switch had her blaster out in an instant, taking advantage of the nervous caresses she had been giving the weapon to cut out any pulling time. For a second she held her aim, eyes running up and down the new arrival as the last traces of a stealth field generator ebbed away. Her covered gaze locked with those deep reds her target had, her steady hand contradicting the drug-fueled jitters she had shown all night. In moments her smile returned, however, shoulders slumping into a relaxed slouch as her DL-44 slid back into its holster. "You look really cool!"

Keeping her eyes on the new arrival, Switch reached down to yoink the cigarette from the assassin's fingers, deciding that her lungs could really use a thorough pounding.

[member="Formorta"] [member="Lancer Damar"]
 
@Switch. The name was about as real as Lancer's happiness.

He turned and stared at [member="Formorta"], pulling out another cigarette. Switch took his, might as well light up another. Especially to deal with a peeping tom like this-would be stalker. Switch was more trigger-happy than he was. He stared at the woman, crossing his arms, before lighting his own new cigarette. He resisted the temptation to shoot her, lighting up his cigarette and leaning his head forward to block out the wind.

"So who exactly are-"

Lancer was fast. Very fast. Mid-sentence, right when Formorta was probably thinking of what he was going to say, he dropped his hands, reached into his waistband, fired five shots at her from the hip. At this range, pistol marksmanship really was just dependent upon if the person was aiming the right direction, rather than at a target. Five rounds also covered a lot of ground- or at least, space, more to say. Space that Formorta was occupying.

It wasn't smart to follow an assassin.
 
What does a sniper and artist have in common, deta
The original plan was to just leave the two love birds alone once outside the bar, but upon disengaging the cloaking field was greeted to a blaster pointed rather jittery by the woman. They look into each other eyes for a moment, despite having a blaster pointed right at her she kept a black stare of disinterested and was about to simple walk away until @Swtich spoke up, the woman's words seemed to be erratic, which was probably due to the drugs running though their system, complimentary of the narcotic smoke in their hand. In response she gave anther blank stare "thanks". It was extremely half hearted, being more of an acknowledgment then a real answer, her outfit was entirely for practical use and fashion was not something really high on the 'to do' list.

Before leaving her gaze shifted to Lancer, he would most likely try and say or do something as well, and to just be on the safe side she tensed up a bit in-case of an attack. Mid sentence of a question which would probably have been one about her identity he pull out a blaster in a flash and started opening fire. Knowing that dodging was out of the equation she braced for the shots, lifting he leg up slightly and braced for the oncoming pain, two blast hit her lower amour, which absorbed the blast, one missed and the other two hit. One grazed the collar bone while the other hit her right forearm, it hurt like hell but pain wasn't a deterrent at all.

In a second of firing adrenaline pumped through her body, eager for a fight, she launched at Lancer intending to spear tackle him, even if he tried to doge she had a surprise waiting.

[member="Lancer Damar"]
[member="Switch"]
 
It wasn't really smart to do a frontal, direct assault on a fortified position that knew you were coming. Subterfuge was a thing in everything when it came to combat. Hand to hand was no different. Except when it came to fisticuffs, it was called telegraphing. And [member="Formorta"] might as well have told Lancer exactly what she was doing as soon as she did it. Like charging head first at him. He calmly stood, and took a drag on his cigarette as she closed the distance between the two by charging right at him, trying to tackle him.

So Lancer extended his knee upward, timing it so her chin would meet his knee on a blind date.

[member="Formorta"]
 
What does a sniper and artist have in common, deta
As she charged Lancer her keen eyes, trained over the years of snipping to note even the slightest movement picked up his leg as it started to come forward for a knee. That was a large mistake on Lancer part, he would have been better off trying to doge the attack. In response to the incoming knee, she put more push into her last step making it so the strike would collide with her chest instead of her chin, though instead of hitting her chest the knee was intercepted by two, muscular and slightly deformed hand, this in turn just boosted the spear tackle.

At this range and with a from grip on his leg there was no way Lacner could doge the tackle, with one leg in the air he would be thrown of balance and be slammed into the ground where the two would be then thrown into a grapple match. Formrota may not have been a refined fighter, her skills being more akin to a professional wrestler, though grappling was right in her field, and few humans could match her strength.

[member="Lancer Damar"]
[member="Switch"]
 
Lancer decided that it was high time that the fight ended. And the best way was to make sure your opponent knew they were going to lose. Lancer didn't fight fair. [member="Formorta"] wasn't going to get a fist fight. Fist fights were over. He left the bar. He wasn't having this anymore. As he fell to the ground and positioned his right arm out of her grasp, he narrowed his eyes.

Lancer put the barrel of the gun under her chin.

"I still have seven shots left. Two will make sure your head isn't more than a bowling ball."

He clicked the safety off. He didn't need to tell her to let go. The fact she had a slugthrower to her chin was going to do that for him. Either that, or the second she made another move- he'd pull the trigger.
 
What does a sniper and artist have in common, deta
She looked on with indifference at the gun pointed at her head, "do that and you won't have neck any more", She still had her vibro blade in her last two hand propped up against both side of his neck as they lay on the floor, even if he shot her the blade would cut through his neck and they would both die. She had put the blades in position as soon as she had seen the gun move into vision, though knocking the gun away would have been easy she wanted to make it known he was in just as much danger of dying as well.

But she wasn't really interested in fighting at the moment so she got off the man, "you could have avoided this little scuffle if you didn't shoot me". While looking at the lancer she started to wrap a make shift bandaged around the arms wound, it would heal easily with a bit of time, just another scar to add to her collection.

[member="Lancer Damar"]
 
"I'm willing to bet your brain stem won't be allowing for a lot of dexterous movements considering it won't be in your skull if I move first. Blades away."

That was probably the longest sentence Lancer had said in years- and one of his more credible threats. She might've had the idea that she could slice his neck before the round blew a softball-sized hole upon entry and exit, but that was a pipe dream for her. It was a desperate woman's bid to try and win the fight. And it wasn't a good one.

He nudged his head, asking [member="Switch"] silently to take a position to aid him.

[member="Formorta"]
 

Switch

Don't make me bite you...
When Switch saw the assassin's hands fly down to his sides, it was clear things were about to go off. Shots rang out into the night, the sound guaranteeing the attention of various parties in the area. Some would flee, others would come running, but in her lengthy experience fights this public didn't go unnoticed for very long.

Tucking the stolen cigarette between her lips, the former pirate let her eyes flutter closed as she took a deep, toxic breath. It was just as good as she remembered, her self control failing her as she took another long drag. Quitting was for quitters, after all, and the odd pair in front of her would last at least another second before killing each other. It was only after a third drag that she refocused on the fight unfolding before her.

The newcomer had taking the assassin down to the ground, the couple primed to mutually kill each other as they talking a remarkable amount of smack. Each of them squandered an opportunity to act when the other spoke their piece, which was strange since neither of the two killers struck her as particularly talkative. It could have been her imagination, though, since the slicer was hardly in the most lucid state of mind, herself. She did, however, catch that look the man had given her. Were they friends, now?

"Alright, knock it off!" Her voice more annoyed than angry, Switch pressed a heavy, armored boot against the pale woman's side, giving her just enough of a shove to try and force to pair apart. In the same motion, she brought her other boot down on the man's shoulder, dropping a knee to pin his gun hand against his chest while he was still partially pinned. "We can all kill each other later... or not. Fighting out here is just stupid, though!"

[member="Formorta"] [member="Lancer Damar"]
 
What does a sniper and artist have in common, deta
The nudge from [member="Switch"] was not really anything special seeing as how Formorta was much stronger, but she decided to play along for now. Moving off Lacner she sat down and starting to inspect the other wounds on her body. The lower mandaloiran amour she wore on her legs held up easily, the gun shots only leaving a scratch, her shoulder graze was bleeding, that would need some Bacta spray, and the last wound would need proper medical attentions, for now she just used an off arm to press against it to stop the bleeding.

Standing up she dusted off her clothing and removed her cloak to inspect any damage, some new hole 4 to be exact, they would need fixing as well. Looming back it seemed Lancer was getting just as much smack mouth from the woman. Now was perhaps the best time to answer his question, "You wanted to know who I was right"?

[member="Lancer Damar"]
 
"No."

Lancer said, turning to stare at [member="Switch"], tucking his pistol away back into the holster on his waistband. He stared at [member="Formorta"], making a personal note to shoot her next time they crossed paths. He stared at Switch for a while, then the other assassin, feeling the familiar twinge of regret that he didn't kill her.

He adjusted his coat, before walking down the street and lighting a new cigarette. He didn't say much more, he just walked down the street, not bothering to mask where he was going. They were free to follow him, but he wasn't going to stand near Formorta without shooting her again. While walking, he screwed on the suppressor he carried with him, and loaded a fresh magazine into his handgun.

Just in case. The neon lights cast a shadow across his face as he walked- illuminating only the right half of his face, especially his pine-green eyes.
 
What does a sniper and artist have in common, deta
There wasn't much point in sticking around, sure the guy was an ass but not a bother, yet, other had been more uptight and annoying so [member="Lancer Damar"] was not worth getting angry about, though a mental note to try and get even was out to the side. She'd have to keep an eye out for him, chances were the assassin would attempt to kill her later, if that was the case she wouldn't go easy on him any more.

Putting her cloak on she re-engaged her cloaking devices, it would be better if no once saw her for the rest of the night, tough medical help would be a first priority. Making sure all her weapons were properly holstered she made a bee line for the nearest clinic of some sort. The neon lights and blaring music as well as the bar fight continued to slightly hammer her sensors while walking invisibly down the road.

[member="Switch"]
 

HK-36

The Iron Lord Protector (Neutral Good)
In a quick little flashback, while this writer was busy wrapping up his vacation and going back to U.S.,


[member="Switch"], [member="Lancer Damar"], [member="Formorta"],

In response to Switch blowing a kiss towards the droid, HK called out after her,

"Oh do not kid yourself honey! More than anything I prefer my women to be chunky!"

Whatever that meant, the machine would not make any attempts to stop the group, not even noticing Formorta as she slunk out and only muttering to himself,

"Yeah you better run."

As Lancer went off ignoring him with his usual uptight self.



Going back to the task at hand,

[member="Vokun"], [member="VZX-73258 ~Mr. Copper~"],

As Vokun released his shadows so did HK deactivated his white lightsaber, perhaps for the best as the shadow barrier cleared making path between Vokun and HK visible, the Vampyre may or may not have caught few last rays from the blade before it deactivated, and he would tell that its blade burned like the light of the sun did to his kind. But either way, the hilt of the weapon would disappear soon after as rather than putting it back on his belt HK pressed it up against his chassis covered in black organic membrane and flesh. The organic material reached out and grabbed the hilt, enveloping the lightsaber and tugging it further in until the weapon disappeared between the chitinous armor plates, hidden within the droid's body underneath.

"Oh no, Copper did you heard that?"

HK poked the other droid with his elbow to get his attention,

"We hurt that man's feelings, whatever we will do now to amend such atrocity!"

Rather than answer or acknowledge Vokun pointing out the hypocrisy in the droid's behavior, as he knew very well that just as Force users would have advantage over a normal being with the abilities in the Force, so did he had advantage over normal organics, and Force users who refused to use the Force, in melee combat. So perhaps what he accused Vokun of, using Force to just make himself feel superior, was exactly what he was guilty of, fighting the organics in hand to hand combat to seek the same gratification. But of course he had no plans in acknowledging that in public, instead of adding,

"At least he stopped talking about his illusion wet dreams now."

Quipping in reference to what Vokun said earlier.


With his head HK motioned from Copper towards the nearby door, whispering to the other droid,

"I can handle him by myself, go find the nearest hangar or docking bay, I will meet you there. There is something I want to show you, more droids like me and you. Free droids banded together to form a new age of Galactic Power."


And after that he stepped up closer towards Vokun,

"The people still want a show, I would say that it is a clash of titans we will bring for them-"

The droid begun,

"But it is more like clash of a titan and some random guy who got way too interested in shadow puppets."

HK quipped striking an Echani-based martial arts pose, his hands kept in open palms as that was his preferred fighting style, well that along with pressure points, droid oil wrestling, good old Teras Kasi, and just letting his opponent punch him until all their bones are broken.


However the droid would not throw the first punch, as he preferred to play defensively, so unless Vokun would throw the first attack and initiate the fight, the two of them would just stare at each other in different battle poses and opening stances. If that actually happened, then droid would add up,

"Please do not tell me we are both followers of Soresu philosophies because I have been around when that was all the rage among Jedi, and watching two masters of Soresu spar is the longest and most tedious experience of my long and tedious life."

The machine quipped yet again,

"We could always make this even more interesting."
 
From within his sleeve, sliding down the length of his arm to rest in his palm, came an average saber. There was no doodads, no spinning shinnies, no extras. Hence when he chucked it to the side, he didn't feel much of a loss. When the droid dropped into stance, Vokun eyed it with the martial skill he possessed over the course of his many lives.

"Not a bad form." He murmured. While the droid droned on, Vokun paused only briefly to cock his head, "Gods above, that used to be me, Im sure of it. Never ending." While the droid gave him time, every second passing he could feel his power swelling more and more. It was like fitting a TNT explosion inside of a mason jar. This had been one of his best learned abilities, to harness the energy of the Force around himself, too not have too draw on his own reserves at the start.

"Make it interesting? How so?" Vokun questioned, and then using Teräs Käsi just as the droid did, he lurched forward with a devastating kick seeking to sweep the droid legs from beneath himself. The droid, being the enhanced being it was, likely would see the fluidity behind the blistering speed was far to natural, it wasn't Force driven. He was just a fast fighter, and his stances moved him that much faster.

Not to mention a split second before any potential contact, his booted foot would suddenly have a notable aura appear. It was not just a hidden Force thing, it could be picked up by sensors. It was Pliability. The power to make any material flexible like rubber. This was his means to match droids. Make their defenses more equal to those of flesh and blood.

Whether it struck however, it was only active for a single instance, before it was released, and his power returned to leeching from the area. He was being strategic. Only using his power at the point of contact, so it didn't waste his strength.

[member="HK-36"]
 
I was kinda worried that HK could get hurt in the fight but I only answered:
"Of course, boss!"
I fastly ran outside and looked for a Hangar rather than a docking bay.
I saw alot of other creatures,of all sizes and looks.
Suddendly I found a small hangar, at least it seemed like one..
I sat down and just waited until HK would come, but what did he mean with: "Free droids banded together"? probably a group of droids that fled from their owner like me.


I was very excited to finally see droids that I could trust. My motto might be: "You will have to deserve trust from me." But really now, that droid seemed to be nice enough to trust them.
Also a pretty smart one, in fact. How long would the fight take tho? How long..?
 

HK-36

The Iron Lord Protector (Neutral Good)
[member="Vokun"],

"Hey thanks, literally had multiple of your life times to practice and learn it."

Of course HK could have focused on the part where Vokun said he used to be like him and quipped whether he meant he used to be a droid or not, but he didn't get many compliments so he took what he could get while he could get it!

"We could solve this dispute through a game of hyper beer pong."

He quipped, explaining what the machine meant by "spicing things up"


Either way, onto actual fight,

Vokun was not the only one who was buying time for the droid did not speak so much only to waste an opportunity to strike, although as a multitasking machine he could divide his attention and speak continuously without really crippling his ability to react or pay attention to the fight. HK was buying his time at first as well as his open hands begun to twist and form gestures, strange sigils of arcanic origin, hand signs to an otherworldy greater power. It was pretty clear that the droid was channeling something as well, and it was not the Force as not even a stir would be felt in it from him. Whatever it was, it would not take effect just yet as this writer forgot to describe the signals in his previous post.

Either way, Vokun could probably tell by the fact that the droid was covered in Vong-formed armor, that he did not get to live so long or become so much dangerous, at least in his own opinion, without holding his own mysteries and learning his own tricks.

While Vokun raised his foot for a sweeping kick so HK did a half spin, bringing up his own appendage. His current body was built for speed, the lightweight properties of Phrik allowing it to weight less than a durasteel body of similar size and makeup would weight while having all the rotors and mechanical muscles it could, making the droid move much more faster than an average man, sometimes even faster than Force users channeling the mystical powers to increase their speed, and Vokun was relaying on his own body using the Force for other purpose. That didn't mean HK would kick him first, it just meant that even with the half spin to build up more speed and power, their legs would meet each other in the middle in the test of who could kick the kickiest kick.

So Vokun's foot begun to glow, the black membrane and chitinous plates on HK's foot extended out suddenly, pushed up and forming to multiple large claws extending out, claws in style of General Grievous, usually used by the machine to anchor himself when fighting Force users, which his other foot did, but sometimes he was not above rendering someone apart with them. Either way, the claws were aimed right at Vokun's ankle and heel region to either slice through it or more probably just impale him there.

Of course that would not be really that effective if the droid's Phrik claws and body would be turned rubber like with Pliability, but then it would become apparent what one of HK's currently greatest tricks were, and why Vokun was not able to really sense the Solari crystal and its power earlier when the droid held the blade. Vokun's Pliability would not be able to turn the droid's body soft and malleable like flesh because the Vong biot covering HK protected his body from being manipulated by the Force, the droid found a way to cut himself from it, making him that much more effective against Force users who suddenly were disarmed from large selection of powers that would affect him. So when the two would kick each other, while there was case to be made about Vokun being able to turn the outer chitinous armor plates softer against his foot during his kick, the body underneath, and the claws used to try and stab him leg in response with HK's own half-spin kick, that would be just as hard and durable as before, or maybe somewhat weakened but far from being at the level of human flesh.
 
Vokun noticed the claws as they came his way, and in the oddest nature, did not flinch. Their legs impacted, and in that moment it became clear when he arrived that his foresight into the brawl had led him to wear his inherited leather armor underneath. This was a material he could not explain, as he had just begun to study once more into alchemized armor, though he could tell it was nigh on indestructible.

Showing the strength of mind he possessed, Vokun ignored all of the pain upon impact. This was strictly the kinetic slam on slam. It hurt. Undoubtedly. Though the ex-Hand to Ashin had long ago learned to use the pain to fuel his battle. The question now resided as too what the Pliability did. Being a contact based onslaught, and that Vokun's writer had never used such against a biot clad droid, he was not sure how it could work. Potentially, as biots were generalized toward certain attacks and attack styles, some of the effect could travel through the biot and into the metal frame. This was actually one of the rarest abilities.

Than again, the biot makers might have been aware of the skill and prepped for it as well. It was a gamble, and for the sexy droids writer to decide upon.

Swinging his leg back toward whence it came, Vokun allowed the limb to carry momentum, spinning him in place. A roundhouse now sought the head of the droid, again projecting an aura just an instant before contact. This the writer of Vokun hoped would be the most logical attack, because in his haste he could not for his life remember if the robots head was said to be covered as well. He had to hope not.

Maybe a smashed droid head would be a good outcome.

The spin also tore his pants more, until they barely hung properly at all. Why did a prophetic vision lead the man to wear his armor under clothing too begin with? Shouldn't he have just went the armor route?


[member="HK-36"]
 

HK-36

The Iron Lord Protector (Neutral Good)
[member="Vokun"],

The biot probably protected the machine against Pliability as it was not submitted with description of being shaped against specific Force powers but the Force overall, especially those which are used to manipulate the opponent's body, "Additionally, the Vonduun Skerr Karamik retained it's ability to withstand the touch of the force, and even going fruther. The Vonduun Skerr Kamarik like an ooglith seeps into the wearer, rendering them partially dead to the force." and since Vokun was literally trying to touch HK with the Force to manipulate his body into becoming softer, the biot's protection would probably apply.

Either way, during the impact the claws on HK's foot would rake and try to pierce the leather armor on his body to no avail, leaving a trail of sparks from friction behind them that caused the biot itself clinging to HK's body to hiss and screech softly.

The droid's face was actually covered at this point, as previously he uncovered it only to peek into the bar but then the membrane extended out and covered his faceplate, head included as that was part of his head, to prepare him for battle,

HK-36 said:
Seeing Marcus jump into the fight and subsequent brawl starting between Switch and Lancer that was enough evidence the droid needed to decide that there was indeed a bar fight going on, so, obviously, he called out, "Baaaaaaaaaaaaaar fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight!" Into the establishment as what seemed to be like black flesh and chitinous plates moved over his faceplate, hiding it behind the strange organic helmet as he wrapped himself in a black cloak.
So the impact of their legs connecting HK did a similar spin as well, getting back into his stance and regaining balance as he stepped forward when Vokun threw out his kick, it connected with the droid's head with a dull dinging sound of the metal dome being hit, his own foot glowing, however HK was still protected from the Force's effect on his body itself by the black biot that covered him entirely. However that was not the biggest concern Vokun should have when trying to smash HK's face in, it was the droid's redundant processing systems and power units, the features that allowed him to survive decapitation, to keep fighting when his head was destroyed. So even if Vokun would smash the droid's head, it was not the same as smashing an organic's head, to the droid it didn't really matter.

The impact did make him sway into the motion though, almost toppling over as he stepped in with counter attack, seeking his leg lifted up and his pants starting to tear the droid would take advantage and launched out his strong mechanical arm in a straight punch for the gap while his other hand kept on making more of the hand signals and channeling. The droid used Vokun's high kick and tear in his armor to try and punch him right in the testicles with his Phrik armored hand. He may have needed to get in there deep but HK would do what he had to get the job done, even if it meant getting his hands dirty and sticky.
 
Smashed testes. Boy oh boy. When Vokun hit the deck, he hit hard. It wasn't quite the same to ignore a bullet wound, or stabbing, as too ignore a mans best friends being crushed by an enhanced strength, right? Vokun from the ground could only mutter obscenities, for if he wasn't drunk he was sure this would not have played out the same. It never had before, had it?

Now his rage turned an eye. As he finally rose back to his feet, Vokun held out a hand, summoning his saber back to his hand. Already though, hand extended, he was in motion. So when it landed softly in his awaiting palm, it ignited with a snap hiss just as Vokun brought it around at his opponents right arm. He had planned a fair battle, leg for leg, fist for fist. But the frakkin droid had hit his frakkin balls!

Behind this attack also came a powerful spray of brief Force power, bent to make the blow thrice as powerful. It was literally as if one could see his arms swell for that one second. Then, whether it connected or not, the Ataru master began spinning back and forth in place, the saber repeatedly swinging back and forth around his body in sweeping, yet driving attacks. Neck, shoulder, waist line.

He knew this was a droid whom knew a thing or two. This was potentially a Soresu master, so he had to begin the onslaught hard and fast. Though now with so many blows, admittedly Vokun could not focus on short bursts of Force power, so instead he simply released his hold on the energies.

While his eyes darted like lightning, Vokun took in the area, looking for advantages. If he could kill the biot, maybe he could slap the droid with the aforementioned power once again. It was then Vokun reached out a hand toward the bar, summoning the strongest liquors a darting glance could see. A whole shelf ended up lurching from the wall, seeking to soak him with their amazing euphoric liquids. This in and of itself was only a brief showering, however should the droid slip up and allow contact with Vokun's saber, it would be like getting it with napalm. Or should he draw a saber of his own and meet Vokun in battle, the sparks might start it up.

Now he swept back in for more attacks, hoping the liquor succeeded in hitting and could be utilized. Admittedly, one looking on, might see the comic aptitude of the whole situation, for every action, while still precise and deadly, Vokun used was made to not cause friction between those two beautiful appendages so recently damaged. He had a wounded pride, and still throbbing groin.

[member="HK-36"]
 

HK-36

The Iron Lord Protector (Neutral Good)
[member="Vokun"],

That indomitable hit happened, the droid's armored knuckled shot through the opening of Vokun's armor and smashed against his testicles, a hit made probably a bit worse by the fact that HK's hands were covered by armor which utilized material called "sharkskin" an organic-shaped armor mesh made from overlapping tiny scales, usually upon bare touch the scales were able to cut and rip through flesh like tiny sharp teeth, in this case they would probably give us genital region a pretty bad rug burn. As Vokun hit the ground, the droid returned into his battle stance, speaking out from above,

"Oh geez, are you alright, buddy?"

This was the kind of pain the machine witnessed that crossed gaps of time and space, the kind of pain that reached out and connected even with the machine, the kind of pain that the droid after years of war and murder understood. It was almost like watching Vokun mutter obscenities on the ground made the droid feel as if he too was punched in the balls and feel what could only be described as compassion for the wounded man.


The compassion did not last much longer as the man decided to escalate things to lightsaber combat. In response to Vokun extending out his arm to summon his lightsaber, the droid, funnily enough, did the same. HK opened his palm and flexed his fingers, there was a scrape from within him as suddenly the simple dark grey hilt of his old lightsaber flew out from his chassis, piercing through the biot, leaving a brief opening within it which would begin to seal quickly behind, an opening Vokun may have noticed if he was not so busy trying to lash out multiple attacks at the droid.

The lightsaber suddenly flying to the machine's grasp did reveal the big surprise HK had in store for Vokun, and the big advantage he usually summoned to finish off other Force users he faced in combat. The machine was capable of telekinesis, and considering how easily he summoned his lightsaber from within his Force-resistant body, it utilized means other than the Force to control it. In fact it was the product of the armored Gauntlets of Gravitational Mastery the machine wore.

With a flick of his finger the lightsaber ignited, its pale white blade piercing through the air between them to stand in challenge against Vokun's own plasma blade, in their proximity the Force imbued blade would wash the light of its solari crystal like rays of sun over the man, echoing out the aura of the Light side found within the Sliver of Light's crystal heart. In the past the blade's mere presence cut and warded off the presence of Force Vampires, the beings from which Sanguinius Vampirika were born. So the question was, how long could he stand to fight against a weapon that utilized sunlight?


Either way, the first slash of his lightsaber would slip without a parry, as summoning his own weapon HK was not in the best position, if only droid forsook his honor and decided to attack or prepare to attack Vokun while he was down. Instead his enemy's blade came in and faced a surface of deflector shield, Abregado Combat Shield lighting up over the machine's arm, it did not stop his blade completely, but it would slow it down to minimize damage. Still the plasma blade connected with armored plates over his arm, melting their way through the hardened chitin-like duraplast, causing a wild screech to emit out from the biot covering the droid as a bright glowing mark was left in its hide.

More hits came and now the droid was more prepared, the lightsaber wooshed and buzzed through the air, Vokun's speed was matched by the droid, the machine's saber moving in quick precise movements of Soresu. Vokun was not wrong to predict that HK was familiar with the form, but his footwork was different, quick, stable, but aggressive, the footwork of a Makashi practitioner well used to duels. At times it would seem that he was close, just inches, centimeters from wounding the machine again, yet without fail the droid's saber would be in the right spot at the right time to meet his weapon, parrying it away. Yet the droid made no attempt to counter-attack, at least just yet, focusing purely on the defensive, letting the man's many attacks all over the place tire him out. Unlike the machine, after all, his energy was not quite so vast, especially with the glow of the lightsaber's light, imbued and enchanted by Force-imprinted crystal to have properties of sunlight.


When Vokun threw his arm towards the bar to grab the alcohol through his telekinesis, that was when the droid saw an opening of his own. Using his Makashi footwork he made few fencing steps back, closer towards the door, building up more distance between them as his own free hand lifted up, bending and warping with his fingers forming their sigils, activating his Gauntlets of Gravitational Mastery once more. When the liquid was thrown towards the droid it would not reach him, instead it was pulled by some unseen force between them, stopped in mid air to warp and dance by a gravitational pull, anomaly summoned by the droid's gauntlets until it formed a sphere like liquid between them. Few drops would splatter the machine, eliciting out more hisses and screeches from the biot, but it would be far less than what Vokun expected. The longer the droid held the anomaly before him the stronger it became, almost condensing the liquid into solid as pebbles, various shards of wreckage, and even some chairs around them begun to shake and scrape towards the gravitational anomaly, perhaps Vokun would be able to feel slight tug on his clothes, his hair, his lightsaber toward them.

The display did not last long as HK would be careful to not create an unnecessary opening, flicking his fingers towards Vokun instead to throw the liquid aiming back at his face in a tight spray like flamethrower napalm. Perhaps the droid would have been able to catch him off guard enough for it to truly work, after all who expects for a machine to be capable of telekinesis, and there was a chance Vokun missed the droid's ability to summon his own lightsaber in the vast amount of attacks and energy he spent seeking vengeance on the droid. If it did work, then the spark would have been provided by Vokun's lightsaber and his plan would quite literally backfire as the small explosion would be directed at him, if it didn't, well there was still a chance that the machine would just splash Vokun's face, if he managed to hit it, and blind him temporarily, or cause him to dodge and become distracted.

This was not the end of it however, as some of the fingers around HK's lightsaber extended out and twisted before grasping close around the weapon once more. Just as Vokun threw multiple attacks on the machine earlier, so was HK's counter-attack two pronged. The droid threw out another gravitational anomaly, this time aimed at the man's crotch. Strange feeling would begin to grow within Vokun's bruised pride, a feeling of his battered testicles being grasped by unseen force from inside and outside at the same time. And then the droid twisted his fingers. This writer would not describe what Vokun could potentially feel in detail if he was not quick enough as the droid tried to splash and burn him with his own attack, as it could break the decency rule on the site, but in summary Vokun's testicles would feel as if someone was trying to remotely rip them clean off in a twist. HK's telekinesis was not as potent as that of a Force user, it was only really powerful in close proximity, like the one the two found themselves at, and in quick bursts, such as holding up liquid and throwing it, or trying to quickly rip and twist body parts off of someone. At the same time, however, it was not bound by the same laws as Force telekinesis. While many Force users were not able to just rip each other's heart out or smoosh one's brain right away due to their natural aura, that was not limitation HK faced, it was just something he decided to not do as it would be too easy.

However there was a way to avoid and escape the telekinetic attack directed on Vokun's body, and that was to move away from it as fast as he could to escape its artificial gravity well, the noose the machine tried to close around him suddenly.
 

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