"Wander, Wander, Wand- Ow! A Sith!"

[Amon]

I thought it was necessary for this character that this be recovered.




Amon


"Just for the Hell of it..."

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Posted 22 August 2013 - 11:17 AM

@Mikhail Shorn

Aboard The Free Chaos, a strange figure piloted the virtually unmodified (borderline) Freighter in a seemingly pointless journey... as if the ship traveled with no destination. This was like many actions of Amon, who seemingly did whatever whenever wherever. Whatever it is he does, he didn't care when or where it happened... even if it was nothing never nowhere. Amon was... a free spirit in it's kindest terms... in reality he was probably just mentally retarded with a degree of ability to shoot crap. But he knew more about things then he let on... he always exhibited things more than he told people. He could never tell a straight story, or at least... he would never tell a straight story unless the story was so crooked it didn't need to be changed for someone to not believe him. It was how Amon worked... or didn't, whichever way you looked at it. But regardless, like many chance encounters with this odd man with his funny quarks Amon had randomly landed on the planet of Mustafar... no reason as always. Maybe one might speculate he found the molten, almost hellish environment a beauty to behold in all its glory...

"Kriffn' smells like sheb." ... or perhaps not. Suddenly, while walking upon the surface metal surface of some cat walk over a river of lava, he saw in the sky (via enhanced imagining to see beyond the ash clouds, thanks to his HUD system in his helmet) a certainly out of place ship... about as out of place as Amon... descend from the heavens. A seemingly ordinary (though costly looking) Horizon-class star yacht came down for a landing. He shrugged (as best he could), lifting the stolen Jair Sonic-Blaster Rifle, and Mortar Gun that was on his back with his shoulders. He checked to ensure that his water spray was operational... although, how helpful that was going to be on a world where the rivers were melted rock would be debatable. Then again, it didn't need to last long for what he used it for. He also ensured that his Wrist Mounted Dart Shooter was primed and ready, each dart laced with Fex-M3. He brushed past his thighs to feel that his Flechette pistols were where they should be, too. Why did he do all this when it appeared that no one was really present on this Force forsaken rock? Because he had a growing headache to closer that ship got to the surface of Mustafar... that's why.

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#2 Mikhail Shorn


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Posted 22 August 2013 - 03:20 PM

The Pariah descended through the sulfuric clouds of Mustafar before settling into what appeared to be a long dead hangar. Those few who still lived inside this hangar station quickly contacted the ship asking for identification. The transponder code looked good. Of course, it was not the actual name Pariah. Mikhail Shorn did not simply flash around his presence these days. Subtlety had its moments.

The boarding ramp hissed down and Mikhail exited his yacht, black boots stepping lightly onto the hangar floor. He glanced around once, pale eyes alert for trouble. He came here seeking answers. Spencer told him what happened on Mustafar. Perhaps here he might find some answers pertaining to the battle between her and Anaya. And then he would settle the score.

Garbed in a black leather jacket and armed with only his lightsaber, Mikhail left the hangar with a self-confident stride. He doubted any remnant of the Empire still remained, but a Force User never came unprepared, no matter how little weaponry he brought.

He strode onto one of the many catwalks connecting stations and began to head for the main building, his blue eyes flicking around and senses alert. A dark expression clouded his face. Mustafar was a dead planet. Burning and dead. The volcanic ash, scent of sulfur, and constant heat from lava flows only reminded him of destruction. He did not respect the terrible power of nature some might call beauty. He hated the black and red planet, because it reminded him of himself. Everything he touched seemed to burn up before his eyes. Everything except him.

Mikhail grimaced and kept walking, one hand idly twirling his lightsaber.
@Amon

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#3 Amon


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Posted 23 August 2013 - 11:51 AM

@Mikhail Shorn

Whether or not it was true that Force Sensitives gave Amon headaches, when the ship set down, and a dark figure exited it; Amon had little reason to figure it wasn't a Sith or something. He had reason to suspect that's what he was long before he got close enough to really see in detail, due to having seen a few strange goings-on's on Mustafar. What with Imperial Ships exiting the system, and mysterious other things; it was unlikely not to encounter Sith where the Empire had been... especially when so far away from home indicating a possibly dangerous or secretive mission. But these thoughts appeared to minimal within the confines of Amon's helmet, as he didn't pose to be someone complicated. In all truthfulness he didn't care if he was Force Sensitive, he just wanted something to beat on.

"Eh, you." He called out to the dark figure, who very unsubtle-like twirled his lightsaber about. Not a smart thing to do if you're hiding... then again, what did he have to hide from on an essentially lifeless rock? "You're givn' me a headache." He pulled out his Sonic Rifle, "That ain't a good thing." He said before raising it up to a aim at him... though on a straight cat walk like this he could have hip fired and would have failed to miss. He opened fired.

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[Amon]

Mikhail Shorn


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Posted 24 August 2013 - 03:53 AM

He saw the character ahead of him and his first thought was that the Sith hadn't left, but he didn't pick up a Dark Side aura from this individual. Strange, who in the galaxy could be here wanting his attention? Nobody good, he expected. Whenever people came to call they never had anything nice to say. He drew the Dark Side into him as the man spoke, readying himself for an encounter that was indicated by a growing flicker of maliciousness in the man's presence.

That maliciousness revealed itself in the form of a raised blaster rifle.

Damn.

Nobody ever had anything nice to say.

Mikhail raised his hand in response, honing his focuse to a knife's point. He heard the expected high-pitched whine of the blaster as it discharged. Bolts zipped toward him.... and right into the palm of his outstretched hand. He absorbed several of the blaster bolts and felt the energy course through him. Then the sonic round struck. His utilization of tutaminis was the only thing that saved his hand from being completely blown away. The flesh of his palm shredded and flayed, completely torn away to reveal pink and white tissue beneath. Blood spattered back and across Mikhail's face.

The surge of pain zipped through Mikhail and his eyes flared open in shock. Even Force Users could be taken unawares. However, he managed to hang onto the energy he absorbed and promptly channeled it into a telekinetic pull that tore at the gun in @Amon's hand with the fury of a screaming gale as Mikhail attempted to rip it from the man's grasp. He raised his other hand and activated his lightsaber. One red blade sprang into existence, then a second.

With blood dripping in rivulets from his extended hand and the other holding a humming, crimson saberstaff, Mikhail advanced on his opponent, intent on ending this fight quickly.

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#5 Amon


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Posted 24 August 2013 - 12:32 PM

@Mikhail Shorn

While the Sith seemingly blocked his shots with his hands, (stupid space wizards!) Amon activated his boots to magnetically plant him into the ground. He was confident in standing in the same place despite the Sith's advancing nature, because he was sure that he'd have the perfect load out to turn his (second) greatest advantage into a weapon against, or take it away entirely. But regardless he watched in momentary satisfaction as the Sonic-Blaster Rifle tore through some of the flesh of his targets hands... momentarily as his gun was being jerked from him through the force. He held on to it as best he could, attempting to continue his assault... the effort was short lived. The few bursts he managed to pull of ultimately missed... amazingly, just before he nearly fell forward (if not for his boots) as the gun flew away from him.

He grunted sadly. The Sith began to advance, and although he believed he had enough firepower to take him down, he wanted to catch him off guard.. again. Rarely could a Force insensitive beat a force users while he knew what was going on.... hell, rarely could you beat anyone who could sense where your next attack was going to hit. The trick was to overwhelm them in every aspect; firepower, numbers, and tech. If you had the tech you always had a shot at giving them a run for their money, but the other too are nice to have too. Amon at least had the firepower and tech, though a second Amon would be great. Oh, also, in attacking a force, user, never exploit the same trick twice, and make sure each trick isn't a constant stream easily predicted. So, Amon deactivated his boots and slowly back pedaled his way away from the Sith, even as he continued to advance (and quickly).

He had a few things in mind, but he didn't want to reveal all his tricks. He knew that Sith and the like, could deflect blasters (or absorb them as his target demonstrated), but slugs and sonics were especially difficult for them to counter. So he did the next logical thing, and pulled out a pistol and began firing as if in desperation, waiting for the Sith to come closer. He had an assumption that would be deadly right now if he were wrong, but few non-fish-like lightsaber wielders would plan so far in advance for the task he was about to accomplish... but he had a back up plan if his assumption turned out to be wrong. It was good at this stage to gauge the level of ability your enemy wields, so as to play a physical game of chess, testing the skill of the player to put all your pieces into place before claiming check mate... or in Amon's case, get all the players piece the kark out of the way so he can get a clear shot at the head.

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#6 Mikhail Shorn


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Posted 24 August 2013 - 04:11 PM

After tearing the blaster from the man's hands, Mikhail gestured to the side and tossed it over the railing. The carbine fell tumbled o the ash and lava beneath. Mikhail continued his implacable advance, though his opponent seemed to recognize the danger of close combat with a lightsaber wielder and started to backpedal away while pulling out a pistol. Mikhail made sure to actually try to determine the weapon's function this time in lieu of his shredded hand.

Over three years as a Republic Army officer meant he knew his way around ranged weapons. Force enhanced senses picked up on the percussive nature of the weapon as his opponent opened fire. Mikhail kept his hand extended and reached out with his will, wrapping it around the incoming slugs and stopping them in their tracks. Then he reversed their trajectory, accelerating them to an alarming speed and and sending them back toward @Amon.

On the left hand side of the catwalk, lava belched in a flammeous spire of red-orange goo. Mikhail ignored the interruption. Ash fell all around them, clouding Mikhail's vision. He could taste the sulfur in his mouth, smell it all around. Mustafar smelled like a corpse of a planet. The fast-falling soot turned his hair a charcoal-grey and now coated his leather jacket. Worse, it stuck to his bloodied hand, coating the pink muscles and turning a pangs of pain into a constant burning hurt. He hated this planet and wanted to be off it as soon as possible, but this idiot stood in his way.

Time to change that.

"I don't know who you are, or why you're trying to fight me, Armor Boy, but you should know something.... You just pissed me off."

The fingers of Mikhail's extended hand, now hideous from lack of flesh upon the palm, clenched into claws and Mikhail brought his considerable will to bear on the man's throat. He began to telekinetically choke the man, crushing the trachea and constricting the arteries in the neck. In a few seconds the man would be unconscious due to lack of blood to the brain, or lack of oxygen. In a few more, he would be dead from cerebral hypoxia.

"And people who piss me off tend to have their life expectancies decreased."

The claws closed into a fist as he put all his effort into crushing the man's neck.

"Dramatically."

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[Amon]

Amon


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Posted 25 August 2013 - 06:44 PM

"Kark!" Amon screamed as no sooner did he fire his slugs, did he watch them stop, then suddenly find themselves buried into his armor and sending him on his back. As he scurried up there was no ruse he pulled on, this Sith could stop slugs... that was bad. Really, unquestionably bad. He never heard of a Sith or Jedi being able to pull off something like that, but now he would make sure to generate some kind of countermeasure in the future. But at any rate... that was the "Ow" in the title... or just the first. He nearly dropped his weapon, though he wasn't sure how well it was going to help him... unless he could get close enough to the point where it was damn near impossible to be countered, though that degree of closeness was difficult to obtain with force users... especially when they had that kriffing invisible grip around your neck. The guy wasn't far away now, very close, closer than he would like right now... but yet contradictory upon earlier thoughts of him being not close enough.

He figured it was time to stop dying and turn the tide or something. Focus was the key to the force as anyone who had any knowledge of it knew, so then it would be Amon's mission (the reward being his life to continue to exist) to distract the hell out of him. Easy enough, he thought. His gut hurt a lot, that probably wasn't good... then again he was also being choked to death, causing him to make not very humble gurgles that sounded all too similar to unsavory curses. He lifted both hands towards the Sith Master, and promptly, unleashed everything. He fired both Flechette pistols as fast as he could pull the triggers (meaning as he raised his other unarmed hand, he picked up the gun), meanwhile launching a dart payload, along with launching a spray of water, aimed for his face or the general area of his lightsaber; he couldn't really aim his wrist the way he wanted while "aiming" with his pistols. That should be enough, he thought, hopeful.

He really hoped the Sith wouldn't pull off a retarded God-mode and launch everything back at him... because for one, he'd be dead, and two, he'd be wet. He didn't want to be wet when he died... a quirky unrealistic fear of his he just developed now.

@Mikhail Shorn

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#8 Mikhail Shorn


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Posted 25 August 2013 - 07:42 PM

Shorn sensed the man's intent before the pistols even came up. No, he couldn't stop the amount of firepower that this guy was about to unleash on him. Or, rather, he would, but it would take everything out of him. Shorn preferred his body mostly intact after a fight, rather than eviscerated and drained by utilizing too much Dark Side energy. Avoiding that would be a definite plus.

He released his grip on the man's throat, the energy dissipating and allowing him to focus upon his next act. Milliseconds passed as he gathered the Dark Side into him again and unleashed that torrent of energy. The guns came up and Mikhail did too. A Force-enhanced somersault carried him up and over the line of fire and further, even. His trajectory took him in a parabolic arc, with him ending just behind @Amon. Sometimes when you couldn't block or counter, the best option was to simply try and avoid the attack altogether. Of course, sometimes you couldn't.

Shorn had barely felt the thwack of the flechette passing through his side. But when he landed he felt a strange wetness spreading down his lower, left ribs. Sudden pain lanced through him, but he managed to blot it out. That made two wounds in less than as many minutes. This fight was definitely not going well. Shorn had the perfect remedy in mind. He deactivated his lightsaber with a simple flick of the switch and channeled all his dark side capabilities into a Dark Sider's favorite weapon.

Force Lightning.

He raised both hands, fingers splayed. A torrent of crackling, blue tendrils cascaded from his fingertips and sped in an enveloping cloud of electrocution toward Amon. With the catwalk as narrow as it was there was really nowhere to run.

Nowhere to hide.

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#9 Amon


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Posted 25 August 2013 - 08:13 PM

... Well Kark. Amon thought as he saw all of his Ammo fly into empty air. The water mixed with ash around the area the Sith had been, creating a sludgy mix that seeped through and around the catwalk to fall into the rivers of fire below. His darts zipped down the path to miss completely. Some small satisfaction would be gained latter to find that at least some of the Flechette struck home, but right now Amon felt a bit dead. The Sith was very fast, but he had been trained in Taris Kasi... at least a bit of it, so he hoped it would come in handy right now, because although he didn't see it yet, he heard an unsettling off *vroom* from a lightsaber very clearly behind him. He made the effort to turn, slow compared to his opponent. Then suddenly....

"AHHHH KRIFFN' KARK!" Was his vocabulary so limited to grunts and curses? No, he said words before right? Meh, cut him some slack he's being freaking electrocuted while wearing a metal suit that just sprayed water everywhere. Whelp, what now? He thought. He didn't have much to counter this, he was more prepared for saber duelists and the like, not Masters with actual force training. That was a bit stupid of him. Then again, he was used to fighting Jedi, who didn't often use lightning... like ever. He had a passing thought to drop some of his mini-grenade ammo to detonate... though that didn't really help his situation, and even if he did survive that, he'd drop straight down into a river of lava. Being blown to bits or almost blown to bits and burning alive. His options seemed rather limited.

So he pushed through it and went in for a punch to the face/throat/stomach/whatever. Seemed like the more "logical" thing to do.

@Mikhail Shorn

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[Amon]

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Posted 26 August 2013 - 08:11 AM

Sadistic satisfaction surged through Mikhail as the undulating currents of lightning rippled across his opponent's form, drawing curses of pain. Smoke rolled off the man's armor and water coating it turned to steam. Meanwhile, Shorn's state of appearance was bedraggled to say the least. Blood poured from the wound in his side, while his hand was raw and burning with inflammation. Yet, the Dark Side sustained him. Mikhail did not need to end this man with a lightsaber. The Force would do well enough.

Then the man socked him in the ribs.

The unexpected blow landed hard on Mikhail's ribcage, gauntleted fist smashing flesh and bone. He felt something crack and a white-hot branding iron of pain lanced his side. Shorn let out a shocked, hurt cry, but years of training kicked in as he responded with muscle memory. One of Mikhail's hands gripped Amon's punching arm in a firm grasp before it could be retracted. He ignored the daggers of pain from his raw, fleshless hand, then Mikhail unleashed the full fury of his Force lightning right through that hand and up along Amon's form.

Point blank electrocution.

The blue tendrils cascaded over @Amon's figure, probably cooking him inside his armor, or maybe sending his muscles into uncontrollable convulsions.

Mikhail stepped into the punch and toward Amon's body. His other hand, the one gripping the lightsaber, abruptly pressed the emitter to a gap in Amon's torso armor and he thumbed the activation switch.

Snap-hiss.

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#11 Amon


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Posted 26 August 2013 - 11:10 AM

Ah hell I'm dead. He thought as his arm was grabbed, then promptly electrocuted. This fight wasn't going to well for him. Perhaps it was time to bail, slave his ship here to conc a few missiles at him before his carcass hit the ground. Perhaps drop those mini-grenades he thought about earlier. He remembered his training in Teras Kasi and realized he could have done a Charging Wampa... or something. What did it matter? He'd still get grabbed at some point and this inevitable position of roasting would still occur. To be perfectly honest, he didn't like this position. But before Amon was effectively killed by a lightsaber through the chest (which would either call for a funeral or advanced cybernetics ASAP), the Sith played right in to where he wanted him.

It was difficult to think, obviously lightning kinda hindered your ability to do that he guessed, but he still had the ability to react, and some pretty lethal tech that could kill this Sith right here and now. Why not kill him a moment before he kills you? Even's out the score. So he went to fire a couple more darts at point blank range... which turned out to be water spraying everywhere.

"Damn it!" He grunted-sort-of-gurgled. No matter, it served to be effectively useful to some degree, not the same lethal effect, but nonetheless potentially life saving. With all this electricity coursing through him, the water made a nice medium for it to direct the bone charring payload towards its wielder, and potentially short out the lethal lightsaber before it could effectively activate through his flesh. Speaking of which his enemy's arm was jerked towards him, he should probably do something about that. So, he used his free hand (spraying water everywhere) to block up. Of course in doing this, it risked that if the lightsaber was not shorted out Amon would be short of an arm.

Even if it did stick in him, he'd fight to the end. He thought that perhaps in the future it would be wise to make some changes to his gauntlets, so that no one in their right mind would grab it... but that was for another time, and hopefully not in another life.

@Mikhail Shorn

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#12 Mikhail Shorn


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Posted 26 August 2013 - 12:30 PM

Water. Water everywhere. Water and Lightning.

Mikhail blinked in astonishment as his lightsaber fizzled out, the red blade simply disappearing back into the emitter. Aw, kriff. Then he saw the arm spraying water swing onto him, and he was abruptly soaked in H2O. The water mixed with the ash already covering him, creating an outer layer of sludge. However, the discomfort of the water soon disappeared beneath waves of electroshock therapy, swiftly dispelling his irritation with being wet and turning it into a mindless pain.

He tumbled backward, hurled by the sheer electrical force of his own lightning, which traveled down his arm and left it shuddering. He rolled along the metal walkway, each tumble bringing a fresh wave of pain from the wound in his side. But he wouldn't be beaten by some nobody. He was a Sith Lord. Drawing on the Force, Mikhail halted his tumble and got to his feet, drowning out the pain of his wounds with the anger he felt in the Dark Side. Cimmerian power spilled forth from him and he molded that might, fashioning its hideousness to his own devices.

Mikhail Shorn stood, knees bent, leaking blood from several wounds; seared, soaked, and singed. But he was a Sith Lord. And he hated losing. His lightsaber he had managed to hold on to, but he didn't reactivate it. Instead he stretched out both hands, fingers splayed, and unleashed another barrage of lightning, which leapt and crackled across the distance. The metal of the walkway and water coating @Amon would be pretty conductive to the lightning. It would probably be fatal, or at least leave the guy convulsing on the ground.

Either way, Mikhail wanted to end this fight. He snarled, tendrils of blue lightning reflecting in his pale eyes.

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#13 Amon


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Posted 26 August 2013 - 09:03 PM

What the hell just happened? Amon thought as the Sith Lord flew back. Ordinarily Amon would fell satisfaction, but currently he was a bit busy convulsing and falling to a knee. An audible groan escaped his lips against his will. It was time to leave now, he pulled a good number on him, but he was pretty much fresh out of tricks at this point, and Amon valued his own preservation as long as the other guy looked worse. Amon's wounds were really only on the inside, where his charred bones lay. On the outside, he sustained... not as visible wounds. Sure a bunch of bruises and burns, and maybe some fragmentation he needed to pull out... but the other guy was just as bad as him; probably. He clicked a beacon that signaled for his ship to arrive at this point.

...Just before another 'satisfying' dose of lightning. Really? He thought shaking his head a little before the 'electric blue' enveloped him in some more pain. He didn't fight through it this time, he was pretty much conditioned for it at this point... didn't change the fact it hurt like hell. He had serious doubts he would even be able to hop onto his ship... he'd be too busy being dead. But before he left, he might as well leave a present for the Sith to enjoy. He held onto the railing, hardly holding on. His gurgling was filled with more pain now, quite obviously defeated. He couldn't see any more, his HUD was long since fried, and he didn't have any of his own muscular control any more.

The ship came falling to his rescue primed and ready to blow the Sith out of the sky, but it wouldn't fire, not while Amon was on the bridge too. Droids he kept as companions and occasionally as hunting partners leaped onto the cat walk, armed and ready to fire if need be. They weren't wielding anything as advanced as Amon, nor were they particularly advanced either. They were cheap, and not all that much of a threat to the Sith Lord. They moved to pick up Amon and bring him aboard.

@Mikhail Shorn

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#14 Mikhail Shorn


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Posted 26 August 2013 - 09:18 PM

Mikhail decided it was high time to leave, especially since this guy seemed intent on calling in reinforcements. With Force-assisted bounds, Mikhail leaped away along the catwalk. He did not want to deal with a whole ship full of minions, or even the ship itself. It probably had laser cannons along with a couple rounds of concussion missiles. He might be able to redirect the concussion missiles. Might. But those laser cannons?

Fuggedaboutit.

The raven haired Sith sped off the catwalk and into a nearby outpost, anxious to get out of the falling soot and looming threat of violence outside. The flechette embedded in his side needed to be taken care of. Along with his eviscerated hand.

This fight was over. And he wasn't sure he'd come out of it better than the other guy.