Hey, all, sorry for the Wall O' Texts here. I just couldn't think of a better way to do it, and since there's no convenient way to tab it or make it better-looking, and also since I'm such a lazy-butt (I can't say what I want to because I marked this story as "T"), I'm just going to leave it as-is. Whew. That was an intense sentence. Anywho, don't let it scare you away. I took the time to write, you can take the slight amount of extra time to focus and read it. It's not really that bad.

And yes, that's an order.

Nadaar Oversaay stepped into the dark room, one of his orange lightsabers ignited in his hand. The other, broken, had been discarded long ago. His weapon produced a dull light to see by, but a light nonetheless. He looked around him quickly, feeling with the Force for enemies. Not sensing or seeing anything that posed a threat, he relaxed, lowering his blade. He slumped to the ground, exhausted by recent events. He closed his eyes and began to meditate, as he was trained to do, but the effort was paradoxically too much for him and he was forced to keep his eyes open lest he fall asleep. Looking at his lightsaber blade, he began to despair at his situation: Stuck on a hostile planet, with hostile beings surrounding him, in a hostile environment with little food in sight. The planet had a constant cloud covering, so it was always in the dark-light of twilight, giving Nadaar a sense of timelessness. He could not afford such a feeling, however, as time was of vital importance - time needed to find a safe place to sleep at last; time needed to locate a shuttle; time needed to prepare himself for inevitable fights to the death. So he sat in silence, deactivating his faithful weapon's blade for a moment of recuperation.

A moment that could've lasted an eternity had he not still been paying attention to his surroundings. A blaster bolt zipped to where he had been resting, but had recently vacated. He was standing, blade reignited, ready for the inevitable next blast. Three more shots whizzed to him; The first one missed, the second one blocked, and the third one dodged. Nadaar responded by releasing a blast of pure energy from his palm, which smashed into the wall opposite him. It had either missed his faceless enemy, or else his opponent had dodged it. Another blast came, from a different location this time. So he had dodged it. Nadaar barely managed to turn the bolt aside, and he knew he needed to get to a more open location. He half-stumbled, half-ran to the nearest exit of the room, hoping beyond hope that he would make it. Just as he came to it, he felt, through the Force, an incoming blast - headed straight for his back. He whipped his lightsaber behind him so that it intercepted the bolt, but the force of it knocked his lightsaber from his hand. Not having time to retrieve his saber, he continued outside, leaping to the side as soon as he could, rolling to a half-kneeling position quickly. Two bolts whizzed out through the doorway he had just leaped from.

Now outside, Nadaar took stock of the situation. He was outside, in the plain open space of the planet he so desperately wanted - needed - to vacate. There was an enemy inside the room he had just left, and a darn good shot as well. Also inside the room was his last lightsaber, his only chance of survival on this hostile planet. So what was his next move?

He knew that he would first have to retrieve his lightsaber, for without that, he would have no chance of defeating his opponent. After that, obviously, was killing his enemy, but he didn't have the time to plan any further ahead than that.

So he waited for his opponent to show himself in the relative light that shone outside. He didn't have to wait long as a black-clad humanoid figure dove from the doorway and rolled to his feet outside. Hurling a rock at him with the Force - the only weapon Nadaar had left - Nadaar sprinted back inside the building and looked frantically for his lightsaber. Not finding it immediately, he focused and concentrated, bringing the frame of the doorway he had come in through crumbling down, temporarily delaying his opponent. Nadaar knew he had only minutes, if that, to find his lightsaber, so he searched even harder, focusing entirely on the task with every one of his senses, including the Force. Finally, he concluded that it wasn't there; his enemy must have taken it. He cursed as he realized the severity of his predicament. How could he fight an enemy who not only had his own weapons, but Nadaar's as well?

His thoughts strayed back to a time far in the past, when he still had been a Padawan, and not the fully-fledged Jedi Knight he now was. His master had been eccentric, but he was a genius strategist, master swordsman, and an artist with the Force - and a Master Jedi to boot. He had survived countless battles, killed countless Sith, and won countless wars. He had been a commander of a large fleet of destroyers during the Jedi-Sith warm but when the Sith had been defeated some twenty years earlier, he had retired, a celebrated war hero, to a relatively unsettled part of Coruscant, where he had taken up an apprentice.

It had been a year since Nadaar had been apprenticed to his master, Master Ro, and he was training with his lightsabers in a courtyard. His master was meditating in a small rock garden, one of many, with a servant, also one of many, at his side awaiting a command. Nadaar was fighting invisible enemies, practicing new techniques and moves his master had recently showed him. He had just beheaded a nonexistent Sith when his lightsabers suddenly flew from his hands and his master attacked him. He commanded Nadaar to defend himself or be killed, so Nadaar had to find a suitable response to being attacked weaponless. As it had turned out, he had merely jumped and ran around the courtyard rather than find the means to fight, so his master gave him a demonstration and commanded Nadaar to attack him while he was unarmed but Nadaar fully armed. When Nadaar struck, his master disarmed him and stole his lightsaber. A brief duel had followed with Nadaar the loser, of course.

Maybe this lesson was applicable in this scenario? But Nadaar couldn't get close enough to physically disarm his opponent. He'd have to do it with the Force. This posed a number of problems, though: If his opponent didn't let go, he'd be simply drawing his enemy closer and removing the advantage of distance. If he used too much power, the field of energy might extend to his wrists and pull him closer anyway. So he had to use minimal power, but at the same time make it difficult, if not impossible, to maintain a grip on the weapon.

Suddenly, from another doorway in the room, a flurry of bolts soared at Nadaar, who, by this time, was ready. He flipped easily over the barrage and focused his power, grasping the blaster and shaking it furiously. It took a few seconds, but finally the weapon flew free from his enemy's grip and into his. Nadaar took careful aim and fired, but his enemy was quick, diving out of the way and taking cover. Suddenly, another blast flew from where his enemy had dove; a backup pistol? Must be. So Nadaar took cover of his own. He knew that he was now, once again, outmatched. He was no marksman, and was used to lightsaber combat, not shootouts. He was at a loss in both skill, though he was not incompetent with the blaster, and tactics, as his enemy surely had been in his share of gunfights and had his own strategies and plans, which had obviously not failed him yet. Nadaar knew he had to think out of the box, like his master would in this situation. What would Master Ro do if outmatched, outgunned, and outstrategised? He would pull a plan from nowhere, of course, and it would succeed, guaranteed. But what would that plan be? Nadaar poked his head out of cover to make sure his opponent hadn't moved, but as soon as it was free of cover, it was fired upon, and Nadaar had to withdrew hastily, though he got a shot out before he did (Which undoubtedly missed).

Finally, Nadaar came up with a plan. After a few minutes of tentative fire-return-fire-ing, Nadaar knew he had to make his move before his enemy did. He took a quick look at his stolen blaster's power reading, and saw that it only had ten shots left - he had to make them count. Squeezing off one final round to keep his enemy at bay for a few moments longer, Nadaar used the Force to push his rock at his enemy's cover. As it sailed through the air, he concentrated, waiting for the right moment, and finally, when it came, he leaped with Force-augmented strength through the air towards his enemy's cover straight through the air. If he timed it right, which he luckily had, the rock he had launched would block his flying form from the view of his enemy until he was right above him, at which point the rock would continue to sail harmlessly over the opponent, and Nadaar would be above his enemy, ready to shoot to kill.

The time came: The rock was out of the way of his sights, and he was soaring through the air directly above the enemy. He took careful aim and fired off the rest of his rounds at the form below him. This was the risky part; If he ran out of ammo, he'd obviously be out of luck, but the fact that he was soaring through the air in an immovable arc made him an exceptionally easy target for any half-decent shot. He landed, rolled into a standing position, and dove to the side, just in case, before turning around and looking at his opponent, ready to leap into action once more. He saw, however, blaster holes - many of them - smoking and riddling the corpse of his would-be assassin. He sighed in relief that his plan had worked and retrieved his lightsaber from the corpse's belt. Reassured that he was safe when he felt the familiar weapon in his hand, he sat down for a moment of well-deserved rest.

When he got up, he left the building and looked at it. Made of stone, ancient and crumbling, it was truly a sight to behold. It had many carvings in its walls, each more detailed than the last. He then looked at the sky - dark, cloudy, and dull as usual - before turning his attention to the horizon. It was flatlands all around him, with not another building in sight; no rivers, lakes, oceans, or mountains anywhere. But to the left, he saw a small lighting of the clouds, almost imperceptible. That meant that there was a light source shining brilliant light. That usually meant that there was civilization. And where there was civilization on a well-established planet, there was a ship shop where he could purchase a cruiser to get off the rock he was standing on.

In considerably higher spirits, Nadaar set off for the small amount of light on the horizon.

Okay, guys, since I've got other stuff to do, the only way I'm going to put out another chapter of this within the next few months is if I get three reviews or PMs asking me to.

Read, Share, Review, Repeat. Over and over again, for this story alone. JUST DO IT! -Nike

Aaaadios, mi amigos. X-Wolf sala! (Si, es mas español).