Originally posted by AncientPower
Moreover, not to 'humiliate' you in turn or anything, because I couldn't give a shit about this forum's obsession with dick measuring contests in the slightest. You clearly didn't understand what I was evidencing. In the other thread, Fresh stated I'd provided no evidence for Meetra having strong Force defense showings. Thus the post you quoted as evidence of some 'double-standards', was a general post to make evident of how powerful Meetra actually was. Given Carthage treats Atris like a 'featless' doormat, I thought it prudent to substantiate a feat of Atris', in an attempt to show otherwise.
1. Yeah the exile has exceptional force defenses:
2. So you can post Atris object feats to show how powerful she is to make Meetra look better, but somehow Galen's object feats aren't a measure of his power? Got it.
3. You want some combat feats for Galen? Fine:
He can oneshot Kazdam:
Outside his droid golem shell, however, Paratus was more vulnerable to Sith lightning. What he couldn't absorb into the junk metal burned him and left him writhing in pain. The apprentice sent bolt after bolt hurtling into the tiny figure. It almost seemed that the fight would be over before it had really begun.
He repelled Vader's telekinetic assault:
He staggered backward and found himself at the center of a telekinetic storm. His Master seized on his momentary weakness and hurled missiles at him from all sides, hoping to keep him off his guard. For a moment, it worked. Then the apprentice straightened and, with a sweep of his left arm, blew the missiles away.
He exchanged a telekinetic battle with Vader:
And there were ways to fight that didn't involve lightsabers. Loose objects, accelerated to killing speeds by the Force, became projectiles that converged from all directions. Invisible fists clutched for throats or punched with the power of pile drivers. Floors tipped underfoot; severed beams stabbed like javelins; overloaded circuits exploded.
He pulverized his own perfect clones:
From above came the sound of lightsabers activating, and he braced himself for another, more dangerous onslaught. These, the most normal looking of all the clones, spun, slashed, hacked, and stabbed at him from all sides, one-handed, two-handed, with all possible variations of lightsaber combat styles. Red-eyed and hate- filled, they fought each other, too, and the ones who had come before. There were no allies, just a sea of individuals. And yet... Confidence, determination, intelligence, and cunning-combined with physical strength and agility-the clones possessed every attribute he did, in greater or lesser degrees. He saw in their faces the same confusion he felt. They were all clones, so who was he to stand out from among them? What special qualities set him apart?
He sought strength from within himself, and pushed outward with all his might. Clones went flying. The empty rubes from which they had emerged shattered into millions of pieces. Platforms buckled and fell with reverberant crashes. The interior of the cloning tower rang as though struck with a giant hammer. Every muscle in his body shook with the effort of it. The echoes faded, and he felt a peculiar kind of quiet descend. The air was misted red, and every surface was slick with blood. He tasted it on his tongue and smelled it in his nose. His blood. A veritable ocean of it.