Good Ol' Fisticuffs--Zeke Saska vs Elias Akasha

[Zeke]

Oh, thank the Force. After two fights involving an angry Togrutan, a pirate raid, and a number of brief shouting matches with his wife and co-captain over the termination of his least competent employee, Zeke has found a moment's peace. He's at an outdoor cafe, sitting under an umbrella, drinking something with alcohol and enjoying the breeze. Apparently, Naboo has a knack for mellowing people out, even with Stormtroopers swarming about.

Clearly, there was something going down. Zeke had heard vaguely that security in the city was being tightened up for some bigwig who'd be coming through this place on the way to the capital. Why not just land 'em at the capital in the first place? Good thing he'd decided not to go flying around practicing Force at this stop.

"Politicians are dumb as hell," he mused, swirling his ice as he contemplated ordering another drink. He smirked, smiling to himself as he remembered escoring a Chancellor once as a Padawan. "Crazies need some common sense. That's about all there is to it." He decided against another drink, paid his tab, and headed back to the spaceport where he found his wife, Carol, and his daughter, Cassandra, having a rather heated discussion with an Imperial man. As he got closer, he could hear what was the trouble; his ship was under inspection as a security risk. Made sense, given that the Curvy Lady limped in after it had been forced to re-route to Naboo after it's run-in with the Voodoo Heart, but still...

"Mister, can I help you?" he asked, standing next to his family to present a united front against the man.

[Elias Akasha]

Lieutenant Vaughn was having a bad day. It had started out bad, when he'd arrived here obsenely early to begin overseeing the preparations of the starport for the Governor's arrival. Organising security for big, fancy functions was a headache at the best of times, and the fact that their guest of honour was some backwater politician who'd decided to take a tour of the Mid-Rim and pretend like he was important for a few weeks just make everything worse.

And to make matters worse, the Imperial Security Bureau had decided to send an Agent to stand over his shoulder and critique his every action. The arrogant jerk - Agent Akasha - was busy standing in the corner watching everyone, rather than actually doing something useful.

Suffice it to say, Vaughn had been dreading this day for a while now, and now he was here it was surpassing his expectations of just how dull and dismal it would be. His job was relatively simple: screen all the vessels in this area of the Starport, and have anything suspect diverted to another facility elsewhere on the planet. It was an important countermeasure - the Rebel Alliance had no scruples, and would exploit every chance they got to strike out at the lawful government. That was Vaughn's only consolation: this was the one time he got to actually act out against the terrorist Rebellion. No one was going to sneak through and attack the Governor today. Not on his watch.

Unfortunately, the people being asked to move their ships weren't nearly as understanding as he would have hoped, and everyone was dragging their heels as much as possible. Just like the brainless cluster of people from the Curvy Lady who were standing around arguing with him now.

His shoulders slumped as a new arrival - yet another complication - strolled over, deciding to insert himself into the discussion. A quick glance at the datapad identified him as one of the Captains of the vessel; apparently, the married couple ran the ship as a joint venture. How sickeningly sweet of them.

Forcing out a sigh, Lieutenant Vaughn turned his attention towards Zeke. "As I explained - several times - to your wife," he explained, a little testily, "Imperial proceedural code two-two-four-slash-nine-bee clearly states that any vessel sporting unregistered battle damage should be treated as potentially hostile until a full background analysis can be completed."

He waved his arms around him, indicating the swarming corridor just outside the hanger doors. "We're a little busy today as you can see." Vaughn shrugged, but there was no appology in the gesture. "If you would kindly run along and fly your junker off to one of the designated starports, we'll do our best to clear up the outstanding security concerns as quickly as possible."

[Zeke]

Zeke put a steadying hand on Cassandra's shoulder as she tried to get into Vaughn's face. "Junker!?" she repeated indignantly. Carol took a deep, calming breath and pulled her daughter back as Zeke got in Vaughn's face for her.

"Now look here. We barely made it to this spaceport. We need to get this damage appraised before we move the ship. We took a hit to our engine block, and while it didn't cause any trouble in space, the heat and friction from the atmosphere aggravated it to the point where we almost crashed in the plains. Until I can be assured that the ship will hold together, I'm not moving. You can wait a few hours, can't you?"

[Elias Akasha]

"Listen," Vaughn grunted, patience finally snapping through his last nerve. "You people don't seem too clever, so I'll make it nice and simple for you." His hand strayed towards the blaster holstered at his waist. "We don't have a few hours for you to run around taping bits of your ship back on. Now I don't care how you do it - you can drag that wreck across the plains piece by piece for all I care." His eyes narrowed threateningly. "Just get it moved."

"Is there a problem, Lieutenant?" Agent Akasha's voice rang out across the Spacedock, his blindingly shined shoes clicking rhythmically against the ferracrete floor as he made his way towards them.

The muscles in Vaughn's face twitched involuntarily. Of course - karma, the Force, or whatever it was conspiring against him had decided that this situation obviously wasn't enough of a headache, and had sent its angel of frustration to come and join in the fun. "No sir," Vaughn replied, as Agent Akasha stepped up beside him. Vaughn's eyes settled back on Zeke and his wife. "Just a couple of civilians who don't seem familiar with the laws about dumping their garbage in a public space."

[Zeke]

Zeke wished he'd been more diligent with the non-Force aspects of his Jedi re-training. He could do with a little patience. He addressed himself to Akasha with the intent that dealing with not-Vaughn would make this more bearable. Behind him, Cassandra was about ready to kill someone, and Carol was beginning the arduous task of ushering her inside.

"With all due respect," he said with a smirk, unable to hide his total lack of respect for Vaughn, "We can't move. The atmosphere may cause damage to our ship that could be fatal for it's occupants and anybody else around the ship. Now, if your little carnival show can wait just two hours for us to get an inspection of the damage, we can get along without anymore undue fuss."

[Elias Akasha]

The smile that Akasha forced onto his lips was a mirror to Zeke's, but the rest of his body language conveyed none of the other signs of the same expression. "I'm sorry, Captain," he began, the tone in his voice indicating that lack of respect wasn't entirely a one-sided thing. "But planetary Governors aren't accustomed to waiting around."

The expression on Vaughn's face turned to one of smug supremacy; in an instant, Akasha's limbs had snapped out, hurling the Lieutenant to the floor. He planted one of his smartly-polished boots squarely on Vaughn's chest. "I'll deal with you later," he hissed, applying an instant of pressure to ensure Vaughn's obedience. The Imperial nodded his head, and Elias released his foot, leaving Vaughn clutching his chest and regarding his superior with a mix of fear, anger, and surprise.

Akasha turned casually back to Zeke, shifting his tone back to the same calm, calculated one he'd used before. "It seems that, in his incompetance, my subordinate seems to have given you the impression that compliance is optional." His eyes narrowed, shoulders squaring off against the ship's captain. "I don't care how you do it; you have ten minutes to make the necessary arrangements to remove your ship. If by that time you have not complied, and your vessel is incapable of leaving this facility under it's own power, I will have her dismantled, and the parts distributed to scrap merchants across the planet."

He peered into Zeke's eyes, gaze probing as if trying to stare at his soul. "Yourself and your family will then be arrested on suspicion of being Rebel sympathisers, and will be -" he searched for the word "- processed accordingly."

[Zeke]

Zeke has had enough of unwarranted attacks and threats directed at him and his family. He pre-empts any further aggression from Elias with a fast, dirty punch right in the face, connecting just under the nose.

"I have very little sympathy for anybody," he stated flatly, stepping forward to follow with a gut punch. "Not for rebels, and certainly not for you."

[Elias Akasha]

Elias doubled over, the wind knocked out of him by the sharp blow to the stomach. He'd been hoping that things wouldn't get violent today, but that had always been a danger. Stormtroopers were carefully concealed in various locations around the hanger, ready to open fire on his order.

He straightened up. He wouldn't need to give that order, of course. While he may have been wearing pilot wings and officer pips when he'd swapped out his uniform for his current ISB service dress, he'd made it into the Academy the hard way, working up through the ranks as a Stormtrooper. He'd spent most of his career as a Jump Trooper - advanced troops deployed via jet pack from high altitude, and renowned as some of the most formidable soldiers in the Empire - and had progressed further to become one of the elite Spacetroopers. While his skills with a gun were impressive enough, his unarmed combat skills weren't too shabby either. The muscles hung on his broad frame weren't just for show either.

Bringing his knee up sharply, he stepped with his foot in thin air and threw his body up, other leg snapping forward into a sharp kick to the chest that propelled both Zeke and himself backwards several paces. Hands clenched into loose fists, Elias dropped into a ready stance, weight balanced over his back leg ready to spring forward into a counter-offensive should the freighter Captain decide to do anything stupid.

Keeping his voice calm and level, he fixed Zeke with a determined glare. "I suggest you stand down, sir, before this gets messy."

[Zeke]

"Oh, it's far too late, mister. You're just the latest in a long line of folk tryin' to make my life more interesting than it needs to be." Zeke's kept his breathing regular, fists up in a balanced combat stance, and mentally reminded himself

No need for the Force

as he finally was met with a mundane opponent on open, public ground. Somewhere behind him Cassandra shouted encouragement to her father before Carol dragged her inside. His crew began to troop out slowly, their postures indicating that, should they be needed, they were more than ready to help their captain.

Zeke shuffled forward, keeping his weight balanced over his feet, and started simple; just a straight jab, nothing fancy or dirty about it.

[Elias Akasha]

Arm snapping up quickly in a block, Elias threw Zeke's arm away. Stepping in close to minimise any follow-up shots, he came in with an elbow strike to Zeke's head. His opponent was too fast however, managing to hook a foot around Elias' ankles. The Imperial tumbled, landing on the floor heavily. His face creased in a wince, but he'd experienced worse in training. Wrapping his ankles around Zeke's, he threw himself over to his side, cutting the Captain's legs out from beneath him.

Climbing back to his feet, he took a few paces back to give Zeke a chance to ready himself. If he set his mind to it, no doubt he could break this civilian with ease, but that wasn't the objective here. I just need him to back down, he thought to himself, dropping back into his ready stance, arms prepared to block again if necessary. No need to over-tax the Empire's medical insurance.

[Zeke]

No need to over-do this, Zeke thought as they broke and sized each other up again. Don't need too much Imperial scrutiny. The former-Jedi put his guard up, ready to dodge, and made a move. He stepped quickly forward, stopping short his maximum kick range, just to see what would happen.

[Elias Akasha]

Elias recoiled instinctively from the kick, eyes widening in surprise as the leg came up short. Forcing his brows down into a frown of concentration he dropped, hands and one leg supporting him as he swept the other around towards the ankle Zeke was standing on. Clearly not a fan of spending fights on his back however, Zeke dodged, and brought his raised heel down in a blow towards Elias' head.

Barely managing to sideslip in time, the blow was deflected onto Elias' shoulder, pain rippling across his upper back. A snarl escaped him and he lept upwards, arm held high to stave off Zeke's blows and blocks, his other fist flying forwards to deliver a sharp jab to the stomach.

[Zeke]

Zeke let out his breath rather than let it be forced out of him. Elias wasn't so lucky on his follow-up, as Zeke swatted the blow aside handily and snapped a kick at the wily Imperial man's ribs. There were scattered shouts from each man's allies on the sidelines as Elias knocked down Zeke's foot and the two men came to a deadlock, each grappling the other by the shoulders.

"You don't fight bad," Zeke grunted, finding Elias quite impossible to move. "They teach you all this in Stormtrooper School, or were all the lessons focused on how to cultivate bad PR?"

[Elias Akasha]

Elias grunted out a laugh, muscles tensing as he fought to topple his opponent, much stronger than his frame would have suggested. Despite Zeke's jibes however, he had learned valuable things in "Stormtrooper School", particularly relating to when was an appropriate time to fight fair, and when he should throw the rule book out of the window in the interests of getting the job done.

Bringing his knee up sharply, Elias caught Zeke squarely in groin, the force of the blow lifting his opponent off the ground slightly. He followed up swiftly with a quick downstrike to the back with his elbow, and stepped clear to allow Zeke to crumple to the ground. "Lesson 1 of Stormtrooper Training," he shot back, sarcasm thick in his voice. "The enemy is least dangerous when he is unable to fight back."

Crouching down, he dropped his voice into a low whisper. "I suggest you remain on the ground. I have no desire to injure you further, but I will if you leave me no alternative." Straightening up, he took a few steps back and clasped his hands behind his back. "Are you going to remove your ship, or shall I start removing your limbs?"

[Zeke]

His crew cried out indignantly at the low blow. Zeke breathed steadily, rising to one knee. Dirty, huh? Zeke can do ruttin' dirty.

"Let's see you try," he groaned, crossing the distance with his natural speed and sweeping his hand in a chop, injecting just enough of the Force into the move to increase it's power, but not so much that it would cause unnatural harm if unblocked. To the spectators, it seemed Zeke had acquired a second wind and a much-needed rush of adrenaline. "I'm done playing nice with you, Chucklehead."

[Elias Akasha]

Chucklehead?

Odd choice of language aside, the renewed vigour of his opponent was of more concern to the Imperial. He barely managed to block the strike that Zeke aimed towards him, and recoiled in pain as Zeke's hand collided with his forearm. Not broken, he discovered as he probed it carefully, taking a few hops back to evade the follow-up strikes. Still, it had hurt much more than he had expected.

"Sir," Lieutenant Vaughn called, probably a subtle reminder of his continued presence. Elias shot him a warning glare, just managing to catch the Lieutenant's subtle gesture towards one of the many guards standing ready around the perimeter of the room. A growl danced in Elias' throat. If I'm not careful, he'll order the men to fire whether I'm out of the way or not.

"Hold your fire!" he shouted, leaping sideways and landing in a roll on his shoulder as his opponent lunged with another unexpectedly energetic strike. He set his jaw in determination. Give me a few more minutes to put him in his place. Then you can gun him down.

[Zeke]

Zeke scoffed. "What? They'll never hit me." He chased Elias easily, snapping a kick at his rising opponent, feeling an implacable calm as he settled into the groove of the Force. He threw three strikes in rapid succession, keeping his use of the Force minimal, still performing at just the right level to appear to have peaked in his fighting ability. He clamped his tongue between his teeth to bite down a remark about the reduction of quality in the military since Clonetroopers had been replaced with Stormtroopers. It won't do to give himself away.

[Elias Akasha]

Elias grunted, pain rippling through him in response to the pounding he was taking. Somehow, the man before him - who looked too scrawny to be packing the kind of power he currently was - had found a whole extra reserve of energy to tap into. Elias on the other hand was flagging, coming close to exhaustion. At this rate, he would be outfought, and that certainly wouldn't do: not with all the Stormtroopers and Officers watching.

Dropping to the ground, he tumbled through a few feet to gain himself a little room. Jumping back to his feet he span, snatching a Blaster pistol from the small of his back amid the motions. He levelled the weapon squarely between Zeke's eyes, thumbing the safety stud.

Elias couldn't help a slight smile as his opponent came to a halt, seemingly weighing up his options. "You may be right," he agreed slowly, eyes narrowing to try and read into Zeke's body language; preempt his next movement. "The Stormtroopers could well miss you." He shook his head slightly. "I won't."

[Zeke]

Zeke had been chasing his opponent when the Imperial came up with a weapon drawn. Zeke stopped with his forehead only centimeters from the barrel, fist still pulled back for a strike. It dropped as his crew shouted protests and obscenities, and he caught his breath to speak.

"Well if that ain't just the dirtiest little thing," he gasped. He was sizing up Akasha, trying to get a measure of whether or not this man would kill him in cold blood. Zeke decided not to press his luck and stepped backward a few paces. "Well alright then." He stepped back two more times before turning and walking towards his sorely battered ship.

"Pack up, you slackjawed rubberneckers! We're moving out. Find the nearest city! I want us moving before I sit down at the bridge. Go!" His crew hurried to their tasks, each casing dirty looks at the Imperials gathered. Zeke turned one last time to look at Elias, his gaze sending a clear message; they'd have it out again someday, and when they did, it'd end different. Then the cargo hold sealed and the Curvy Lady began to take off.