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Voss was a planet located within the Voss system of the Outer Rim Territories. She’d been there once before. It wasn't entirely an intentional visit. Pirates had fired upon her as she entered hyperspace and the result was being thrown quite literally at the planet with virtually no control of her ship.
That she’d lived was a tribute to the Force. And she’d avoided hitting the Jedi temple, which was also rather good. And she’d met Connor. But that’s another story for another day. In truth she’d been to Voss twice. The second was to attend the funeral of the Grand Master.
Such diplomatic missions were becoming more and more of her ritual, especially since she’d given the role of Head Master of the new Jedi Order Academy on Lothal to another. Today? She’d continue to show the two Orders were working hand in hand and also get a bit of exercise.
A fellow Master had challenged her to a duel. Well not strictly speaking. He’d shown an interest in sparring with her. That sounded so more polite. So she’d readily accepted. It had been a while since she’d last fought a Sith — Darth Vornskr to be precise — so she was up to the challenge.
So she landed in the hangar and pouring down, headed to the exit ramp of her Jedi class Corvette, looking for [member="Jericho"]. He was bound to be here. She looked around, her violet eyes sweeping the hangar, her standard issue Jedi robes swaying as she moved.
The day was sunny and Voss peaceful but far from quiet with the bussling movement of students, masters and worker alike paying no mind to the weather as the warrior had. The wind was blowing and pushing the leafs that were dying as they were ready to fall from the ever changing trees and makes it fly where the wind guided them. The clouds swirled around dancing their way through the orange sky swaying into nothingness letting the warm rays of the sun pierce through with only the gentle breeze to keep on cool.
Jericho was walking toward the temple of Voss looking for a holocrons for his own study. He sees two guards were that posted at the door with long spears that ouch reach at least five feet. They were the natives that had made peace with the silvers on the planet and it was good to the relations so open where they protected one another. The extra security was needed on top of their own capable Jedi's one could never know a possible attack.
He entered at the Temple library as began to do his reading on the ability of shatterpoint. However, it wasn't long before the warrior felt a familiar presence nearby. A special guest though he had anticipated meeting her, the Grandmaster of the Jedi order grace the halls of the temples with her elegant presence. The warrior put his holocron away and swift left to greet her. He was dressed his heavy combat armor and masked and his standard robes them with his four saber clipped onto his belt.
"Greetings," The council member said to her with a humble bow. "Welcome to the Sanctum. Would you like anything from your long travels, Grandmaster?" Though he was a man of few words he was representing the Silvers had to make a good example.
It was places like that that made Corvus miss Ossus. Lothal had history. It had all the equipment. It had students and archives and anything and everything you needed to teach Younglings and Padawans and run an Order. But it was…at the end of the day…underground.
Here, she felt the slight breeze on her face and she could smell the various aromas of autumn. She saw the palette of oranges and browns. She saw sunlight. She suppressed a sigh. It would have been most unbecoming.
Then she saw him approach. She smiled and bowed — as was her custom. “Thank you for receiving me. I am fortunately rested. I have a Meditation chamber on board, so it affords me time to catch up on lost sleep. And I keep a healthy supply of ryshcate on board for nourishment. Or should that be unhealthy?” She smiled again.
She noted his armour and four sabers. She typically eschewed any armour — much to her older sister’s chagrin. She owned special Jedi Shadow robes designed by her — the chameleon setting defaulted to white permanently. They represented additional protection but Corvus felt they restricted movement. And, as she always told her Youngling classes, the Jedi’s armour is the Force.
But a saber and shoto hung from her belt. Along with a white scabbard that housed her katana. Dawnbringer to be exact. And the last person to use it was a Silver Jedi, albeit somewhat younger than Jericho.
“It feels almost rude to jump straight into a spar, but I know time is always pressing. Did you have anything specific in mind or were you keen to test my defences?” She smiled in a friendly manner. “Checking that I’m still up to the job?”
He had met the former Grandmaster Kiskla and long time ago and her skill with the blade and the force at the time was unmatched to him. He remembered the battle as if it were yesterday, the light was of her saber was blinding and the duel ended before it even started. With that said, having read her agile movements, he came to understand the kind of woman she was though his ability of Kinetic communication. He developed his language to remarkable levels regarding combat and interpersonal communication. Being able read movements made and pinpoint gestures to a point of personalities. Sometimes the calmest of warrior have a change of heart when on the battle field which was dangerous especially on the battlefield. Rambling aside, the reason Jericho wished to duel lady Corvus Raaf was to understand her, to get to know the person she really was. "Of course, M'lady. And no, my ship has a similar lay out." He said humbly though his voice stern and booming.
He bowed his head and led her to the sparring area, the layout almost looked as if it were a garden but the area was made for said event. It was open and outside, cherry blossom trees with varied others to make a beautiful and calming look mixed with the oranged and blues sky. "As you did me in the republic, M'lady." The warrior said calmly, he walked to the end of the padded mats and then faced her. He looked her from head to toe analyzing her. Her possible strengths and weakness from her frame alone from a physical stand point at least, abilities with the force was a different story. "I'd like to see your skill, M'lady." He said hiding his actual intentions. "Come at me as if your life depended on it with that, I am sure you'll be more than up to task." He said removing his Jedi robe, falling fast and hard making a loud THUMP as it hit the ground revealing his robe had sewn in weights. The purple light of his saber piercing the air as he went into a relax makashi stance.
Corvus smiled. He was generous and kind, friendly and welcoming. A credit to the Jedi and to the Coalition. And of course to himself. She’d predominantly closed her emotions down. Given she was a natural Empath and this was a heavily populated area, she filtered the level down to one that gave her little more insight than the average person.
She followed him to the sparring area, they chatted as they walked and she took in the beauty of the gardens. They had indoor variants on Lothal but nothing replicated the beauty of nature unhindered.
Once they reached the area, Corvus removed her cloak and folded it neatly, placing it carefully on the ground. Then she unclipped the white and gold scabbard and placed it on top of her cloak. The she turned to face Jericho.
She stood motionless for a second, closing her eyes momentarily. During this time she entered Center of Being. It was her default for any combat setting. She trusted the Force. Implicitly. And this Ability was the ultimate test of that faith. To allow her conscious brain to stand down from making decisions over a duel and allow the Force to guide her. Never to guide it.
She noted his Makashi stance. Her hands were still by her sides, sabers attached to her belt. “And here am I expecting you to come at me? I never attack first. In the words of Repka De, I do not see a lightsaber duel as a choice between winning and losing. It is always better to end a duel peacefully than to win or lose. So I never begin a duel. Never. And I’m sure he’d forgive me for the paraphrase.”
“But given the situation, I’ll see what I can improvise.”
Corvus’ hand moved as if it were holding a saber and she was going to strike at Jericho. Half way through the manoeuvre, the hilt snapped into her palm and activated with a familiar snap-hiss. It’s violet blade now bearing down on Jericho’s head. But at the moment it would be intercepted, she deactivated the blade, reactivating it again a split second later.
He watched her as she lightly folded her and placed her scabbard neatly over her cloak, more so at her practiced hands. It was most likely routine for her to keep tidy and neat, a habit made for same as on disciplined in the martial arts so most likely had a routine for her training. When she closed her eyes the force shifted around her, so it seemed more for her meditations, maybe both, he could only assume. Jericho listened to her words carefully and intently and watched her move. She was focused on her hand movements motioning as if aiming her strike at his already. The warrior braced himself a bit and in a deep breath as he watched her make her move, she went for an over head strike with a one handed grip most likely meant to a swift attack to measure out what she was going against, or a swift attack to make an opening to angle out and make a combination type strike.
No.
Her foot movement betrayed her, she continued her attack charging almost brazingly and at the point of interception the saber deactivated. She was clever. At a moments notice Jericho checked her thigh with the top of his shin, with her balance off slightly it gave him enough time to push himself back about of feet the corner of his nose to his eye singed by her purple saber. A simple tactic, elegantly done with that; the warrior rubbed the area he was damaged, then swiftly made his move. Despite his large size and armor, his steps remained surprisingly light. He went for a three strike combo, his first went in a foreword stabbing motion aimed for her torso meant only to test her reaction, the second a heavier horizontal swing to the right, meant to close distance, then the third a swift angled kick to the same leg he had checked.
[member="Corvus Raaf"]
If any thing seems unclear or unfair just let me know and i'll edit accordingly.
She had cheated. Was that a Jedi trait? Possibly not, but sometimes you had to work things in your favour. If she was to test herself and Jericho, it was important she played to her strengths. Soresu was her preferred form. Over ten thousand hours of practice to be precise – well, not actually. It was 15,330 hours in truth. Yes...she was counting!
Add in the practice of Center of Being and her training in Teräs Käsi that pre-dated her learning the third Form and you have Corvus’ preferred duelling style. Force Valor? Sometimes. The occasional Push or Pull? Yes. But she was a purist. It was in the Eye of the Storm that she was most at home.
Her attempt was genuine but what she wanted above all else was for Jericho to take the lead. She was a counter-puncher. She delayed attacks. She allowed her opponent to weaken. To make a mistake. She watched for preferences, any ‘tells’ that would indicate what the other person would do next. And she was patient, so could wait for as long as it took to see the patterns, to spy an opening.
Her other default position was something that had taken time. A lot of time. A Jedi that trusted in the Force…truly trusted could utilise it. There was, to Corvus, no risk. Not now. Not since she had learn to trust the Force implicitly. For she fell deeply into Center of Being. It allowed her to essentially unconsciously defend from even the most flowing random attacks and feints. For the Force directed her blade. She made no conscious effort – for to do so negated the effect of the Ability.
Her moves were tight, consisting of subtle dodges and efficient parries, her lightsaber moving every second in an attempt to achieve near-total protection, and expend as little energy in the process as possible. Add in her Teräs Käsi training, the development of extreme speed, and an aptitude for anticipating strikes and her defence was almost impenetrable.
But it was limited. She was susceptible to non-saber attacks – especially from Sith Sorcery – and her patience and fortitude meant she often lacked the incisive moves to end a duel. Which opponents could use to get away with a lot more than against a more offensive opponent.
But then, they weren’t looking to kill each other. Just test their relative strengths and weaknesses.
His first blow was a challenge. To deflect a stab meant using the Inner Ring of Defence. The most risky but – by the same token – a perfect opportunity to counter. It was usually frowned upon early in a fight, as the opponent hadn’t been sized for their abilities yet. But Corvus being Corvus only deflected the blow, her hands literally in front of her navel as she did so, and failed to counter.
But she was ready for his follow-up strikes. She parried in the Middle Ring – ensuring she did not block the blow – before the Force and her senses told her to step nimbly to the side to avoid the kick.
She executed the move but his boot caught the outside of her knee. He was quicker than he appeared he would be. How many times had she told Padawans to ignore their eyes – they can deceive you.
”Well this is fun,” she said, smiling, ignoring the pain in her leg. “Now we’re warming up.”
Makashi was one of his weaker forms his mastery over it was limited to a swifter and somewhat more of a defensive style. Offensively speaking, he had to rely on other martial arts to supplement the art as of now. From reading into the early match thus far with her style, this would get him nowhere against her especially since she was staying on the defensive. She remained calmed and relaxed; the flow of the force around her remained serene. Jericho took in a breath and exhaled slowly and analyzed her for a moment having made contact with her leg he wondered if she was merely trying to brush off the pain or her tolerance was much higher than expected. The warrior nodded to her as praise for her ability to sustain damage to the knee with out flinching, even smiling. He lowered his saber slightly switching his stance once more to the more aggressive style of shien.
Jericho was never to defensive nor was he too aggressive in his fighting style, it was a more balance and adapting to one's foe switching from force abilities to martial skills. But this time round though wanting to come and understand Corvus, the warrior wanted to see for a moment what would he come against someone purely defensive and he the aggressor, playing into her little game. He place both hands on his saber, a rare thing for him to do even with his double-bladed saber. Pacing slowly around her with his right foot taking the lead he scanned for some openings only so see that he had to attempt to make one.
The warrior charged in swiftly feigning a full headed charge doing a rising diagional strike from the right only to stop last and doing a slight skip maintaining a just enough distance to do a high jump with the force and attempting a heavy downward strike aimed for her shoulder.
Her catalogue of injuries wasn’t precisely legendary – other than in the Jedi infirmary. Three broken ankles, forty-seven broken ribs, one broken arm, two perforated ear-drums, significant scarring from sabers and blaster bolts, two facial scars (one above the eyebrow and one parallel to and below her bottom lip were the main ones.
So a kick in the knee? She was a woman after all! And with greater injuries came a higher threshold for pain. There was a genetic reason women and only women gave birth.
His move to the fifth Form beat her to it. But mixing it up was always good. She sensed he was not an aggressive fighter – but instead was more balanced in his skills. But then he could be holding back. It was entirely possible – she had after all.
His pace meant she too slowed, which was counter to Soresu, but she did not allow the blade to stop moving, instead keeping up a steady rhythm albeit not as fast as she would need when the spar resumed.
The Force guided her actions, her blade looking to deflect the diagonal strike but it was a feint, the Force telling her so even as it committed her to the move. So she allowed her momentum to carry her saber into a position to parry the heavy downward slash.
Because of the adjustment, she blocked more than deflected. The force of the blow reverberated down her arm – sending an annoying tingling sensation down it. "Ow," she said, and she meant it.
She shook her arm out – in part to shake out the pins and needles – but as they’d circled in the opening exchange, he had his back to where she’d folded up her robe. As she shook her fingers, she used the motion to disguise the fact that she lifted the robe with the Force and with a snap down of her hand, she attempted to drop it on his head.
Jericho hadn't notice the scars on the woman's face until his blade matched and hit hers their purple lights smashing into one another with sparks of light glimmering forth from the blades. The little cut like scars could hardly be seen from her large powerful but mesmerizing eyes, if anything they did nothing to harm her beauty but adding a certain level is distinguish to her knowing that she had faced and adversary or trainer that could cut through her skill. There was a long moment of silence. Jericho had awaited for a response, some sort or reaction or parry from his heavy handed attack there was nothing but a nimble movement from her hand. From what he had witnessed from the grand master before she was reliant on her agile movement and her clever mind.
He felt a ever gentle shift in the force as if she was pull him, maybe even further, his mind tried to calculate what she was attempted to do. But it was too late, as if children at play, she used to force to cloak his view by moving it over her head. Had she wanted to counter and attack after doing the action she most likely would of gotten a hit of some sort making it obvious she was holding back. But that wasn't the case, the grand master was seemingly treating this as play right at this moment, it seemed she was taking this as more as a game than that of a serious match at least that was what he was getting from her actions. The warrior placed a hand on her on her exposed elbow as they remained in their clash and use the force to propel both of the backward; he back flipped and landed gracefully down on his feet and pulled her robe from his head and tossed it next to his own. The warrior let out a warm sigh and made his charge once more, he charged again with a focused flurry of strikes, an upward heavy slash to push her back and close distance. Using the momentum spun and aimed a closed kick to her ribs and with the spin had his saber slashing outward meant really to keep focus to block his kick than his kick.
She saw him glance at her scars. They were fading slowly and up close, people were surprised to see them. “Both a gift from the same person. A Sith Lord…Balaya. Her Force whip was a favourite tool of hers. It’s why I built my shoto.”
She talked as they fought — her years of tutoring Padawans a difficult one to break.
“The first was when I was fourteen. Didn’t even have a saber of my own. The second? I was fighting her with an ally. Not sure I fared much better. But I’ve faced her since I was a Padawan and thankfully no more cuts.”
She was no Guardian. Her choice of Form reflected who she was. Her honorific title reflected her role - she was the Shield of the Jedi. Not the Sword. Her former Master was that, ironically.
And her sparring? Yes they were tricks, yes they were designed to teach, not to injure. Not that she would apologise for that approach. She would test him and he would do well to break down her defences. That was the point of the spar after all. She would conserve energy. She would exercise her undoubted patience. Then they would see who was serious. Sometimes people were taken at face-value too readily.
As her latest ruse had some success, he grabbed her elbow and pushed her backwards. She did as she had been taught as a Padawan. Go with the flow. Do not ever try to fight against the Force. So she performed a back-flip and landed gracefully.
And he came at her once more. She used his pace against him. Soresu was most effective when the blade was in motion. The flurry of strikes allowed her to become the eye of the storm. Again she parried and never blocked. The upward slash deflected to the outside as he closed in on her. His foot kicked out at her ribs.
Her Teräs Käsi abilities were seamless with her Force powers. As he kicked, her hand was a blur and she simply lifted his foot at the heel. It was not a grab for his foot, just a redirection of the kinetic energy. In this case upwards. What that would do to the rest of his body was for him to work out. Her other hand was still holding her hilt and, effectively controlled by the Force, the unconscious defence was keeping his saber at bay.
Allow your opponent to tire. Allow him to grow frustrated. Force him to take risks. Soresu was a simple Form once you mastered it. And it was greatly undervalued.
Jericho's bladed strikes were parried and the force of his kick diverted whether or not she meant to but her skills in unarmed combat was shown mixed into her Soreau defensive form. As his body followed the movement she had led; their blades remained in a clash of purple light. Having an opening made from diverting his leg, she remained on the defensive. From her slight movement of the parry he could not read into her style unarmed combat just yet but thus far. It seemed was purely that, defensive. What she had in her mind seemed to out due her foe in the matter of endurance. The warrior trained his core and endurance every day for hours even on mission or when he was studying; his main ways were that of adaptation, endurance and pain. With his experiences as well, there would be some time before he would tire out or would ever rush movements or attacks in a friendly duel as this.
As she refrained from making yet another attack on his open and moving being had she used for push he would have flown into the wall or if she physically he could of been tripped up if not worst. Her nature was to kind even to one she considered an ally, but considering the circumstance it was not something he would mention at this moment. The warrior moved and spun reusing the extra movement and space. Jericho unclipped another saber and lightly grazing her thigh following that he activated it; its orange light now looming over the purple. He distanced himself again switching to his main style, the Niman/Jar'kai. The warrior took in a deep breath and looked are her, his eyes with more serious intent, his aim was to pressure her, to see just how calm she could remain among a few other things.
