The Blood Games - Aitir Kor'sa vs. STaCLO

[Eternal Discourse]

Petranaki Arena, Genosis​

[member="Aitir Kor'sa] vs. [member="STaCLO"]​

The galaxy had seen its fair share of blood spilled in recent months. From the war-torn capital of [SIZE=11pt]Eshan,[/SIZE] to the explosion that rocked the parliamentary buildings on Kuat, to what remained of the Jen’ari Empire, scattered to the solar winds. The Confederacy had contributed a large amount of that blood - and it would seem that their appetite had turned inward for a change.

Recognizing an opportunity to reforge bonds with their allies, the CIS put out an open invitation to anyone who would consider themselves friends. Those who had been brave enough to put their names forward were invited to join with a horde of spectators at the Petranaki Arena on Geonosis.

The morning was bright, the skies clear. The stands were filled to the brim with roaring spectators, all having gathered to watch what promised to be a brilliant bit of sport. Nestled high above the sandy floor of the arena below, and overlooking the festivities, a platform stood sentinel. A cluster of massive stone chairs sat perched at the edge of the platform, with an unobstructed view of the arena and stands spread around them. Seated there were several members of the Confederate [SIZE=11pt]Viceroyalty,[/SIZE] and other invited guests from their allied factions.

It didn’t take long for every single seat in the arena to be filled to complete capacity, with the unlucky [SIZE=11pt]patrons[/SIZE] that were unable to secure a seat forced to either hover above the stadium or find somewhere to be able to stand and see the spectacle that was about to occur. The sounds and roars of the crowd only got louder and louder as the time neared to introduce the fighters that would be clashing for the crowd’s entertainment. That roar reached a fever pitch as the guardian of the arena, an aging Geonosian, hobbled his way to the front of the observation platform, his cane doing all it could to support him. Beside him, a silver protocol droid, a translator, took up the microphone and awaiting the first words from the crowd’s esteemed host.

After allowing the crowd to quiet down momentarily, the old alien made his voice known through a series of clicks and buzzes, the Geonosian language. The Geonosians were apparently quite pleased with whatever he had to say, though everyone else that spoke basic was left quiet for a moment. The translator droid was quick to fix that, speaking aloud into the microphone for all to hear. “The Great Guardian welcomes you all to this event of bloodshed! He hopes you will be pleased with the fighters, the fights, and the results!”

The elder allowed the droid to finish, before continuing the speech in his native language, then motioning toward the gates at the far end of the arena. The droid, quicker to translate this time, made the same motion while speaking in [SIZE=11pt]its[/SIZE] robotic voice. “Open the gates! And let the fighters make their way forth, so that we may see these fighters in all their glory!”

With that, the gates would be opened, and the competitors would be lead into the arena. The very sight of these fighters had the crowd reaching a fever pitch once again, the open air gladiatorial arena shaped in such a way that the sound would be loudest in the bowl itself. All of the fighters, coming from different backgrounds, different walks of life, were embraced by the crowd wholeheartedly as they were lead to the center of the fighting arena, where all could get a good look at those that had been chosen to fight for their entertainment.

The fighters, [member="Aitir Kor'sa] and [member="STaCLO"], had the look of those that could win the entire tournament, and as the crowd began looking over the competitors, credits could be seen being exchanged as the [SIZE=11pt]patrons[/SIZE] began placing bets on the individual fighters. The arena guardian allowed this to go on for a few moments, before clicking his cane against the rock observation platform, bringing the crowd noise back down to a slight murmur. Looking to the protocol droid, he gave a short nod. Once seen, the droid began the final words to the fighters. “The Great Guardian is pleased with the form you all are in. He, as well as all those here in the arena, are very eager to see what you all can do. You all have your first matchups for the first round. Now, let us begin, and let the blood flow!”

Rules:

Spoiler

1. Rounds of combat are called when all but one of the combatants concedes, is killed, or the 1 week time limit has been reached.
2. Disallowed items: Poison, Alchemized Weapons, Force Powers (there will be force user sentinels present to observe all matches), and Heavy Explosives.
3. If your combat wraps up before the end of the 1 week time limit, please reach out to [member="Adron Malvern"], [member="Xobos Yakieer"], or [member="Shakti Sweet"] to submit the thread for judgment.

 

[STaCLO]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JAEDQwMtf4o

STaCLO feels like he could finally make the great now for the CIS. This was something one could say he'd been waiting to do for over 800 years. Sure he wasn't leading The Confederacy to greatness in an insurgent campaign, but this was the next best thing in his quasi-artificial mind. All three of them were exited for the fight. It was pretty crazy for the Droid/Shard Hybrid to be fighting a Sith Lord so early into his time of being a Force Sensitive. He wondered if his Trainer would be proud of him right now. Or if she thought he'd made a mistake for involving himself into something like this.

Something he hoped to accomplish even back during his journey to become Force Sensitive was to harmonize the world of machinery with The Force. Which now being sensitive to it, was realizing how much of a tall order that was. Nonetheless, he had his own light saber, and built in weaponry thanks to his combat effective droid model.

As he made his way into the arena he wouldn't pay the crowd much mind as mostly Geonosians screeched in 360 degrees around him. Of course there were other races. But the natives were the most prominent. What STaCLO needed was the right amount of confidence and wariness to win the fight ahead. He also wanted to hone his own skills for this fight, which is why he wasn't utilizing his most proud creation, The Jabberwocky. Maybe it would've made the fight more fair but he wasn't competing for fairness.

[member=Aitir Kor'sa]

 

[Luca Donskoi]

[SIZE=11pt]So this is what it had finally come to. Hundreds, if not thousands, of years had passed the malevolent spirit by which possessed the Morellian’s form. Countless adversaries had engaged the Sith Lord in the years that had passed him by. And all but a single one of them had befallen his blade. Or succumb to the sheer power he wrought upon them with an unbridled mastery over the Force. By this time, pages of history had been lathered in the blood his enemies had spilt before him. And that is exactly what everyone was in this Universe. At least anyone that did not strive to correct the damnable path the galaxy had turned to forge.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Weakness was the ultimate slight against nature and the galaxy, yet those that decreed themselves as the [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]intelligent[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] lifeforms in the galaxy had chosen to coddle it. To allow it fester into the plight it was now. There was no other solution for weakness other than death and though. Perhaps this tournament would beckon more than the pleasure such bloodshed brough him. Perhaps it would allow him to scout out the next era of an order that had stretched itself across the galaxy in another time to correct its dreaded course. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]As the gates clamored open, the crowd roared to life, ushering about a deafening wave of cheers and chants. They lusted for death and blood as much as the Sith Lord, himself, it seemed. And blood would be spilled this day. Everything bled. Even the mechanical creation that was this [/SIZE][member='STaCLO'][SIZE=11pt]. Only, machines bled in a different manner, one he sought to show the raucous crowd gathered around them.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He was garbed as he normally was: black, leatheris jacket and pants, stained with dye of the Norris root, [/SIZE]Wûzêansi[SIZE=11pt] hung by his right hip, as the other hilt hung by his left. The hood was pulled over the crown of his head, casting a dim veil over his face. Luminescent yellow-orange orbs pierce through shadow and leered toward the mechanical concoction. [/SIZE]Nirwos[SIZE=11pt] and [/SIZE]Inichas[SIZE=11pt] had both been left out of today’s attire, something about their alchemic enhancements being a slight against the rules of this tournament. Like it mattered, though, the result would still be the same as he saw it. A cruel smile carved its way across the Sith’s feral complexion. The bout was set to begin and the life of this petulant droid waned closer and closer with each breath the Morellian Sith Lord took.[/SIZE]

 

[STaCLO]

STaCLO watched need not fret, surly harm would be done and blood spilled today by the two of them but it was all a test to him. A test of his own skill, a test of his opponents, all to see what simply worked and what didn't. As someone who identified more as software and not hardware the thought of once again leaving his physical body didn't scare him too badly. Yes there was the case that he might not come back, yes he may need to find another shard to maintain Force Sensitivity. This fight surely didn't come without its risks, but it was just one of the many, many benefits of being a droid and not some primitive bio-machine that cane only come about from the great grace of nature. It was the difference of being made by reason, compared to chance. One has purpose, the other doesn't.

In his metal hand's grip was a lightsaber hilt. His very own construction of deconstruction. The two other sentient beings within STaCLO's body were a little more worried of losing their lives to what looked to be a Sith Lord. But the fledgling one man hive mind pressed on into the arena. Stopping a good ways in before the hooded figure STaCLO. He sensed The Dark Side oozing off them. Something he found to be a pity really. To be bound to the irrational influences of passion and emotion. Two things STaCLO had only gained access to and didn't really intend on utilizing them much in the future. Perhaps it was fitting to fight the individual before him. A newcomer to The Force made of metal and looking to the light vs someone of ancient history who took to the dark. It was as if fate was to pit two opposites against one another.

Feeling like the two of them were close enough to start their first moves. STaCLO extended his right arm and activated his lightsaber. A molten glow poured out of it and the sound it gave seemed to have a sort of wetness to it. As if the very blade itself was made of nature's destructive force of lava. All enhanced by the slight leakage of plasma from the blade. Then STaCLO bought his left arm around to his back as if to keep it out of the way. His sleek metal body glistened in the brilliant light of his blade and Geonosis's hot sun. "I would share the percentage of how likely your victory is, for transparancy's sake. But in being good sport and for a more fair fight I would hate to discourage you." The droid/shard hybrid taunted. Employing a bit of Dun Möch clearly showing his own hubris at the same time. If his opponent was indeed a passionate Sith, silly insults could throw them off and be a bigger weakness then let on. After speaking STaCLO did a little honorable salute/flair with his lightsaber in one and. Holding it parallel to the front of his body and nodding. Then did a little twirl with it. Thus showing he was ready for the fight, and would continue with a defensive one handed posture. Left arm still behind his back.

[member="Aitir Kor'sa"]

 

[Luca Donskoi]

[SIZE=12pt]The Sith Lord allowed a small smirk to etch its way across his otherwise deathly figure as this pathetic compiled mass of scrap attempted to gode him. To entice his emotion to take over and control him. Pft. Did this insolent creation of electronic code really think him to be so dimwitted as to fall for such trivial pursuits to antagonize him? Surely not, but by the ages that had passed the malevolent spirit by, it wouldn’t have been the first case, and it certainly would not be the last.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]His gripped flexed and intensified briefly around the hilt of Wûzêansi, as his right hand pulled it from its home along his right hip. An ominous blade snapped to life and crackled in an unstable nature, as its tipped burned the sand and dirt beneath it. It was angled sharply downward for now, by his right, his feet held to a shoulder-width stance and knees carrying a slight bend to them. His shoulders were squared to the machine and the leering nature of his gaze threatened to burn a hole directly through the center-mass of the glimmering metallic chassis. Whether the fabrication and software, circuits and metal knew it or not, his life was very much fleeting. Soon the program would shed its host and be forced to rebuild once more. That much was guaranteed. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Along his left hip still hung the hilt of a second blade. It wouldn’t be able to be seen by the naked eye, however, and the extending folds of the Norris Root dyed jacket/cloak veiled its very presence. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]The Sith Lord were share no words with the...[/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]thing...[/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]before him. Such things were child’s play and would do nothing to aid in a resolution to what was about to unfold. No. This STaCLO creature could have it last laugh behind its pathetic taunt that failed in its feeble attempt to diminish his concentration. He was well beyond such petty games now. They served no purpose. They simply were there. Vocal phrases to hang upon the empty air and fall upon the ears of a man who simply did not care. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]It was STaCLO’s move. He would force it from the hunk of scrap. That is the only way in which this would unfold.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Even as the two would stare one another down, the tip on the deathly, crimson blade sent smoke and vapor into the air, filling it with the aroma of freshly glassed sand, as it transitioned from a solid state into a liquid one.[/SIZE]

[member='STaCLO']

 

[STaCLO]

Pretty soon it would become apparent this wasn't just some hot headed Sith he was up against, and his taunt seemed to have no ill effects, which the droid found slightly annoying. What if he let himself go, and tap into his own passion? Could he even really do that? Perhaps, but now wasn't the best time to start trying new things.

"He doesn't seem to wanna share any words." SYN said to them internally

"Yeah, perhaps he thinks he's too good for us, and shouldn't dare entertain a mere silicon based life form." Jelz replied.

"Shut up you two, even though you guys are incapable of distracting my processors for any measurable amount of time. Any edge I can get would be appreciated." STaCLO internally replied to the two other sentient beings inside him. The little exchange happening in mere micro-seconds, so as far as his opponent and the audience were concerned he was still just waiting for the Sith to make a move. Understanding that he was going to need to make the first move. This worried STaCLO not. Reading his saber into a more aggressive yet still quite neutral stance he marched forwards. He was holding back for now, a combat oriented machine like him could go much faster but he moved at a determined and uncompromising pace.

What he was planning to do was counting some of what his opponent may have in store for him. By pressing through like a well oiled machine and getting into his personal space he hoped to eliminate his options. It was sort of like MAD (mutually assured destruction) or a game of chicken. Given STaCLO ability to behave a little more recklessly he could employ such a catastrophic strategy. The Sith could either fight it off, likely leading to some damage from both sides as the two collided into the droid's unwavering advance. Or they could make a sound tactical retreat as ensure some distance between the two. STaCLO was confident that they should avoid getting too close as to pervert being overwhelmed by superior physical stealth of a machine that could rip their limbs off and beat him with them as bendable clubs.

Or there was a third option STaCLO had failed to see and the match would be over in a disappointingly short amount of time. But when he made it to his opponent STaCLO would make a quick, and dedicated upwards slash towards the Sith.

[member="Aitir Kor'sa"]

 

[Luca Donskoi]

[SIZE=12pt]At last the advance came from the mass of servos and other mechanizations. At last this filthy concoction of mixed metals was coming to see its end by his very own blade. His excitement rose within to the point he could nearly taste it on his lips as his tongue snaked its way across their surface. Soon he and the assembled audience would have the blood they so desired. It would be glorious. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Now one might think that the elevating excitement that simmered within might detract from one’s ability to focus on the moment and be present in the now, but not for such a seasoned warrior and combatant. The very kind of man the stood before this machine. Though he knew in his blackened and cold heart what the outcome of this tango would be, he would not allow himself to fall to an overconfidence. To succumb to defeat by way of underestimating what this particular opponent might bring to the fore. Even if this was a machine whose software dictated its ill-advised actions and perhaps struggled to adapt to changing circumstance as detracted from the abilities of most any compilation of code.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Still, though, the Sith Lord held his ground. Unwavering in his conviction to bring about the fated finale to this event. Ever closer did this STaCLO wander, racing toward a deserved demise. An ill fate that would be served to him upon the end of a blade held in the Dark Lord, Abaddon’s, hand. As Wûzêansi’s blade continued to burn hot, puncturing and liquifying the sandy hearth beneath them, this machine continued forward and began its feint into its opening move. From the origin of the blade’s dictated path, it was easy to scope its project as an upward slash aimed to split him from in front. But there certainly could not be a belief that such a predictable maneuver would land a blow upon such a seasoned veteran of this kind of sport. It was insulting if that were the case. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Nevertheless, Abaddon’s left foot slid slightly over the surface of the sandy ground beneath him and his body turned with it narrowing the exposed area where the strike had been intended. His forward knee

was bent more sharply than the trailing leg now and in a single swift action, the blade of Wûzêansi swam over the ground, its tip carving a smoldering arc before turning upward with a simple rotation of the wrist. The blade’s path would take it to bisect the droid’s left leg to what mirrored the location of the upper half of a thigh on an organic lifeform.​

[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Meanwhile his left hand swept over his left hip and unseated the hilt of second lightsaber in a fluid movement. Its blade would not spark to life - even as the blade of his opponent sliced through the now vacant air where a part of his body had previously been. He held the unlit hilt in close to a point by the same hip he’d retrieved it from and in a manner that if the droid had not meticulously sought it out, the naked eye would not so easily locate it. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]The next few moves would decide this fight. One way or another.[/SIZE]

[member='STaCLO']​

 

[STaCLO]

STaCLO was not particularly thrilled with the Sith reaction. Instead of stepping back and doing a counter as he'd hoped. They stood their ground and countered. Not only that but as their blade made its maneuver it would find it's target unlike STaCLO's. Realizing that his leg had been removed his processors worked over time in lighting fast rapid succession to come up with a new one-legged strategy on the fly. By now his left arm would no longer be behind his back as his more Makashi based stance was no longer an option. Meaning foot work was no longer a factor he had to worry about, but this severely hindered his ability to even make basic maneuvers.

In the midst of STaCLO's calculations the sentient shard within him advised a plan of attack, a very risky plan of attack. But in the spirit of unpredictability and desire to win. Perhaps it was time to use his physical strength. STaCLO would argue that what he was about to do wasn't dirty fighting, it was desperate fighting. How was one supposed to act after having their leg cut off in a battle?

The droid, shard hybrid missed the second lightsaber hilt as it was something he wasn't focused on at the moment. No matter how important a second weapon like that would be in this fight. Hopping on one leg STaCLO faced his opponent. Squaring his shoulders on them. His next moved would probably be ill-advised by any combat expert but things were getting desperate.

On one leg the droid crouched down and readied himself. Then suddenly sprung forwards like a frog. He was launching his metal body at The Sith. His own lightsaber was extended out in front of him so as he went in the the tackle he could maybe get the benefit of impaling them as well. If, and it was a big if, STaCLO managed to make contact with his opponent he would let go and leave the lightsaber in them all the while he would drag them down on the ground under them and simple "go to town" on them with his metal fists. Bludgeoning at their chest and head. But that was only if his crazy plan had worked at all. And if it didn't STaCLO had his shard to thank for it.

[member="Aitir Kor'sa"]

 

[Luca Donskoi]

[SIZE=12pt]When you have an advantage, you press it. You don’t let that moment flee from grasp and Abaddon didn’t intend to allow this particular moment to be a fleeting one. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]As Wûzêansi slice effortlessly through the droid’s upper leg, an opening would present itself. Even at the speed at which the software would map a new course of action, it would be hard pressed for it to react in time to effectively nullify a follow-up strike to go ahead and quickly end this bout. However, it wouldn’t be impossible and it seemed this insolent combination of software and metal try with earnest effort to prove that. Whether or not that desperation would prove effectively was yet to be seen.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]The Sith Lord immediately moved into his follow-up strike, with the intent being to simply finish these [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]fight[/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]. His left arced and slid in a rounded path nearly ninety degrees in a counterclockwise fashion; his right hand, bearing Wûzêansi’s crackling red blade, swept upward and the wrist turned roughly 180 degrees, also in a counterclockwise fashion. This left the blade angle downward now, with the arm raised to shoulder height with the elbow having a slight bend to it. His right foot had pivoted slightly to match the squaring frame of the droid. All the movements were fluid in nature and executed with a grace reminiscent to what one would expect from a Master of the Makashi lightsaber form - the same form the Count, Dooku, had perfect during the waning days of the Old Republic.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]His left hand left his side/hip now, carrying the unlit hilt of the second lightsaber in hand. It swept across his body, snapping to life as the weapon would encroach to striking distance of the machine. As it sprang forth from its housing, it b-lined itself toward the droid’s head region from with a trajectory that might send the blade through the lower jaw and out through the rear of the droid’s head if the strike connected as intended. If not, he only hoped it would slice into some vital circuits within the main chassis of the contraption. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]

---

---

[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]However, the Sith had not been the only one moving. Just as he had, this STaCLO had been also and as his second blade jolted to life, the droid would launch an attack toward him. Lunging of the one leg and extending the blade of its own lightsaber to impale him in the process. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]With a reflexive nature, Abaddon turned the blade of Wûzêansi upward, aiming to intercept the blade of his aggressor and push it up and away in the process. Meanwhile, Abaddon forced his way into a modified crouch, extending his right arm above to further direct the droid’s encroaching blade away from him. The trajectory of his left arm didn’t alter much, but its target would be different. Instead of being the head, the blade would more likely intercept the center mass of the droid and drag though much of the machinery as STaCLO’s momentum would likely carry him over. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Nevertheless, the blade would likely commit to enough damage to end this match. At least that is what would be ideal in this case. If it hadn’t there was the chance that this match would take a very different turn.[/SIZE]

[member='STaCLO']

 

[STaCLO]

It would seem as though STaCLO's current incarnation had come to an end. As before he did his pounce, the droid was greeted to a second saber going though his head. He was unaware of the second blade this entire time, very sneaky. However, despite having his main processors and sensory hardware destroyed now, his body continued to move as if it was on auto pilot. A benefit of having a decentralized brain over your entire body. Although now he couldn't see, but he still knew the Sith was in front of him.

During his lunge STaCLO could feel that his saber had been deflected. That wasn't a good sign. He felt himself take even more physical damage. Perhaps he should be thankful for the loss of his leg, since the lack of balance made his jump a little clumsy. This meant that as his opponent let him jump into his blade it didn't go straight down the center of his body. Instead it would remove a large portion of his upper left body. Cutting from his left shoulder to his waist. Not only that but now he missed his target and flew right over him. Collapsing on the ground behind him in a mutilated piece of junk.

However, STaCLO was still conscious, and with that consciousness came a will to fight. Slowly but surely the Droid would use what felt like the remaining half of his body to get back up. Sparks and and hydraulic fluid seeping out of his large open wounds. STaCLO could provide real blood to the game, but this was close enough he figured. Using his remaining right arm and right leg he got himself up on his one foot. Determination in his body language still there. However, it seemed as though fate could not let the broken droid continue. Almost right after he stood up straight, (or as straight as can be) his hardware was coming under too much stress. Then a loud POP Noise could be heard coming from STaCLO's head, along with sound of internal hardware frying up in his upper body. After that the droid collapsed like a rag doll onto the ground. He was now functionally dead.

The stress of his own hubris killing him.

[member="Aitir Kor'sa"]