Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Loose Ends

It had been a few months (or more, the concept of time had escaped her recently) since Keira had met properly with the one apprentice she had taken under her wing, a Tatooine native and nomad by the name of [member="Lorraei"]. The two had connected on some level upon their first meeting, nurturing the beginnings of a bond in the Force that had the potential to grow into something that wholly encompassed them both. Their interactions had unfortunately been sporadic since that one complete conversation, though she had convened with him once more on the planet of Voss, in the Silver Temple no less. That hadn't lasted too long, given that the pair had been dismissed from the grounds in short order.

Her life in the weeks afterwards had been nothing short of chaotic, beginning with meeting her mentor who had since grounded himself back in a corporeal form and taking off once she was assigned command to a clone army millions strong and growing by the second. Shortly thereafter the Republic had been invaded by the Sith, spurring her and the aforementioned military into action only hours after she had been granted that position of power. Though territory had ultimately been lost she viewed it as a success in the sense that they had learned from their mistakes and would be better for it the next time. A meeting with the Prime Minister and another battle had followed, with indiscriminate events bridging the gap.

Only recently had she found enough free time to so much as consider the thought of a proper training session. But she knew her contributions as any sort of mentor had been lacking severely, and it was only fair that she set time aside for the two of them. It was the least she owed him after what had transpired on Voss, and here she would be able to devote her full attention to any and all lessons that might come to pass. A proper plan of action hadn't been drawn up, as she was one to allow things to progress organically without denoting just what was supposed to transpire and when such a thing was deemed to occur. That was crossing a line into hard-edged formality she didn't deign to tamper with.

Arrangements had been made through brief conversations on commlinks for the two to meet on the planet of Oberon, one Spaarti, the company she supposed she owed some sense of loyalty to after the appointment of the clone army, had headquarters on. With its mostly wild landscape it made the perfect venue for the duo to release the full extent of their power if they so chose. A combination of open plains and forests dotted the majority of the terrain, with large lakes taking up the rest of the space, only one major city being located on the entirety of the planet. Anyone of a different mentality would have appreciated the surroundings wholly for their natural beauty, but she saw practicality in it firsthand.

It was in an open field near a treeline she currently waited, though she was doing more with her time than simply meditating on her thoughts. Instead she had begun a slow, rhythmic mock-combat scenario in which she was the only individual present, forming up defenses and counters to imaginary strikes and stringing together her own sequences of attack as well. It had begun at a snail's pace but quickly sped up to the point where each move was nearly impossible to distinguish from the next, attack and defense manifesting itself in a nigh impenetrable web of plasma that seemed to weave itself about her entire form. Exercising this athleticism wasn't new to her, but doing so in a controlled situation was. It was a nice change, she decided, to be at peace. Mostly.
 
What madness has overcome me? Why are my dreams plagued by this scared woman? My meditations turn to flights of whimsy and thoughts of her. Keira. I have to see her again.

It made no sense to the Desert Fox, none at all. Through fleeting and rare encounters [member="Keira Ticon"] had managed to imprint a profound level of importance on Lorraei's heart and mind. Perhaps worst of all, his near obsession had nothing to do with his typical carnal urges. Not to say she was unattractive, merely that her brand of beauty did not appeal to him in the usual manner. Ray shock his head suddenly, dispelling the distraction that was his unorthodox mistress. A diehard for honorifics he tried, despite her distaste for it, to refer to Kiera as his mistress. Master held such a masculine tone in his mind, something unbefitting of a woman of her slim, statuesque figure. "Your doing it again." With a heavy sigh he abandoned the attempt at meditation. The process was supposed to help him garner a deeper, more robust understanding of the very nature of the Force. Or so he had been told by every other master he had been assigned to during his time with the Jedi Order. In reality the activity was boring more than enlightening. He stood slowly, slapping his hands against his thighs and stamping his feet in a vain attempt to ease the pins and needles sensation that washed through his lower extremities. His skeptics were right he was a terrible Jedi. Meditation didn't help him much if at all. Practice on the other hand did wonders for his control.

In time his found his way to the cockpit of his AT-360 Light Freighter, lazily booting up dormant systems. Beneath him the planet Oberon, a vastly wild world of forest, plains and grand lakes. The only major city the planet boasted was one ruled over by a group of women, in fact the planet was largely run by women. If Keira hadn't called him to meet with her odds are he would lose himself in that city for days. "Enough stalling. She's probably waiting for you by now.", he muttered to himself as he throw the accelerator to full ahead. His ship lurched forward in response and after only a few moments he keyed the after burners. A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he entered the planet's atmosphere. He would have to make a trip here again, when his new mistress wasn't watching over him. Then again, she might be inclined to join him. Another thought to be pushed away for now.

His ship cut in low over treetops, with luck the trees would swallow most of the sound from his engines. He set the ship down in a small clearing more than a kilometer east of the coordinates Keira had given him. It might well have been too late but, as he stepped into the main room of his ship he bowed his head. His mind cleared in an instant, the only aspect of meditation he could get right it seemed. Several moments passed, his breathing slowing to a crawl as his presence dwindled toward none existence. In this state of meditative motion, he gathered his saber and stashed some dozen throwing knives about his person before setting foot on the planet Oberon. Westward did he travel like the rising sun, his bizarre red and purple robes pulled tight about him, his caramel features hidden beneath the scarfs of his head wrap.

In time he reached the proper clearing. For a few breathless moments he stood in awe of the splendor that was Keira in motion. Her orange blade cut a graceful, unending arch through the air. Her body swept from parry to riposte in strong, bold motions. A flippant memory of their first encounter passed through his mind and he couldn't help but smile behind his veil. He couldn't have defended himself that day if he had wanted to. Master and apprentice were oceans apart in that regards to their skills with a blade. Finally he started out into the field, crouching to pluck a wild flower as he went. He came to a holt a few meters away, pressing no closer until she ceased her sequence. When he had her attention he bowed deeply at the waist, his hand rolling forward with a flourish, a wild flower held forth in offering, "Hello pateesa." He said, straightening. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior when we last saw one another. I was being antagonistic a-purpose and I shouldn't have. You understand my disinclination for those like Connor I believe. I should have tried somewhat harder to conduct myself better."
 
The incident at the Silver Temple hadn't so much as crossed Keira's mind of late, and it had been even more time since she had taken into consideration all that had happened there. Which was to say, she had more or less regarded the event as nothing more than another misdemeanor on her record and left it at that. The relationship she and Connor shared was even more tumultuous than the one with her apprentice, and they were prone to such disagreements more often than most would consider healthy for any close friendship. It was that Lorraei had borne witness to, and that he had made the decision to stick around even afterwards was a sign of determination, if anything else.

"You don't need to apologize." Having returned his bow she took the proffered flower and tucked it away to likely be pressed and preserved later. Despite her distaste for formalities that she had slowly been learning to overlook, his company was something she had been missing. "I was acting just as much out of turn as you were. Something like that was bound to happen eventually, no matter what you or I said." One would have thought the brutal sparring match she and Connor had participated in beforehand would have lightened the atmosphere, but that hadn't been the case. "I'm sure things have smoothed over by now. He's not one to hold a grudge over something that petty." Or so she liked to think.

The plasma blade had been extinguished once she began speaking, though she still held the hilt in a relaxed grip, an indication of what was to come. "Besides, you should know that I'm not like the Jedi in any respect, least of all when it comes to proper conduct. I trust your judgment." Rarely did she ever trust anyone, so that was a rare sentiment indeed. But he was one she knew thought ahead with far more clarity than she had ever possessed, and that was reason enough to instill some brand of confidence in him and his actions. Apprentice had already surpassed master in regards to hindsight. It was the more martial talents that needed honing, but even that would come soon enough.

Once again the orange blade of her saber snap-hissed into existence, and she demonstrated for a few brief moments her own pidgin form that combined the two highly offensive styles of Djem So and Ataru, both of which she had taken it upon herself to learn most every detail of in order to utilize each form more effectively. "Bladework will win you a fight just as easily as the ethereal, if you use it correctly. I can't speak for your own experiences, but I've noticed that most people seem to find a blade more unassuming than the power of the Force." This was more of a scholarly edge than she had ever undertaken, but the notion of teaching another was still somewhat foreign, if not entirely so.

"I should be the one apologizing for not making much effort as a mentor of any kind. I'm hoping to make up for that in our time together."

[member="Lorraei"]
 
Coal black eyes followed after the small wildflower as Keira tucked the simple token away. That she intended to keep his offering resonated through every tender cord of his heart, there was healing in the exchange, or so he liked to imagine. When they had met Keira was a vortex of pain, anger and darkness more immense than anything Ray had ever encountered. In the months between that meeting and the one on Voss, Keira had changed drastically. She had banished much of the blackness that tarnished her soul. It was Lorraei's opinion that their sparse interaction could help cleanse that darkness further with kind words, compassion and the occasional flower. Perhaps it was naive to put such stock into these clandestine meetings.

With one daft motion Ray removed his veil, tucking it back into his head wrap. A broad smile cut his caramel features as he looked up once more, "Well, I am pleased I haven't caused any lasting damage, pateesa." His smirk faded rapidly however. Replaced by the first humble expression he had worn in Keira's company. He inclined his head toward her respectfully, "I am glad you hold me in such confidence, Keira. I will strive to be worthy of your trust."

Keira's orange blade flicked to life as she flowed through a sequence. Lorraei watched silently, his mind recording each step with the precision of trained ballroom dancer. The corner of his lips quirked up in a lopsided smile, "Remember pateesa, your strength far surpasses my own. The blade may seem less overt to you but, my strength is in guile." He released his hold on the meditative state that was suppressing his presence. His focus shifting as his arm rolled forward and with a minor application of his will, his curved hilt lept into the air, spinning end over end before him. His hands moved over his torso with inhuman quickness as his over tunic fell away to hang about his legs like a skirt. Beneath was a black armor weave shirt that clung to him like a second skin, etching each abdominal muscle brilliantly.

His curved hilt settled into his right hand, his grip loose but sure. He didn't rush as he repeated Keira's pattern. Despite mirroring her steps to a nearly identical degree, his feet placed within an inch or so of her placement, his blade replicating her cut within a few degrees, his pattern was flawed. There was a hesitation to his movements that he would never be able to conceal from a swordsman of Keira's caliber. His own forms lacked the blatant lethality that her combat style held. Makashi was the only form he knew well enough to improve upon without the aid of an instructor. While he might be talented at this one form, he was a long way from Keira's mastery with a blade. Soresu was the only other style he had any grasp of and it's defensive orientation did not translate well to her Djem So-Ataru hybrid.

His blade settled by his side finally. "Don't worry yourself over it, pateesa. We are nomads. We travel. We lose ourselves in the adventure. I will never begrudge you your nature Keira."

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
"I don't want you to mimic my style exactly if it isn't comfortable for you. My intention isn't to force you into a mold you can't possibly fit. That won't get either of us any farther." As he moved through his mirror of her form Keira watched him carefully, noting every minute shift of his stance and every flex and relaxation of muscle as he danced through each parry and riposte. "If you don't want to constantly be on the offensive then you don't need to worry yourself over mastering this particular form. You need to do what you feel is natural given your own nature and predispositions. That's the only way you'll ensure your own survival when it comes to combat." I want you to be safe. A strange sentiment indeed.

The curved hilt of his saber hadn't escaped her notice, and she knew what form it was meant for. Makashi was a far more artful style than any she had ever put time into mastering, possessing a far more refined bladework that spoke of a careful precision. There were lightyears of difference between winning a fight through finesse rather than merely overwhelming one's opponent, and she had never taken the time to improve upon the former. If it isn't broken, don't fix it, as the saying commonly went. But things were probably different if one didn't exactly know the difference between something needing mending or just simple practice. She had never learned much about that either.

Hopefully he would obtain all the knowledge - common sense? - she hadn't before and more. "If there's another form you favor, then feel free to use it. It's better to play to your strengths rather than worrying about what I prefer." Unconventionality was the name of the game. "I want you to show me what form you do know and are comfortable with. We can move forward from there." Stepping back she extinguished her blade, holding it in a loose grip and motioning for him to continue. This was all more formal than she would have liked, but it was much better than the death-defying sparring matches that had passed for training sessions with her old mentor.

His reassurances were met with a slow nod of understanding and a grateful smile. No matter how many times she reminded herself of just that, it always seemed to take the words of another to truly drive the meaning and depth of such a statement home. "I think there's a difference between nature and neglect, and I'm not sure which side of the line I've been walking lately. But I have to thank you for your assurances. It means a lot." And she meant it. "Hopefully we don't have to worry about being separated for such a long time anymore. I'll do my best to be around more consistently so we can convene like this more often. It's only what's fair to you."

[member="Lorraei"]
 
Ray finished his final few steps in rapid succession, his blade cut a shimmering violet arch around him as he moved. His blade extinguished with a hiss as he straightened to face Keira once more, "Tell me pateesa, is all your knowledge from doing what makes you most comfortable? Or has life taught you with obstacles forcing you to adapt and contort in order to move forward? Taught you with pain that life is about much more than being content in what you have and know. Contentment leads to stagnation. Stagnant water kills much quicker than thirst."

He drew in a breath and with it the Force churned a miniature maelstrom in and around him. Keira was possessed of unfathomable strength, raw power that Lorraei felt he would never match. By no means did that make him weak in the ways of the Force. No, his strength was not in raw power that he could drop like a hammer on his foes but in his finite control. His ability to maintain and manipulate the strength he could gather was all the might he had ever needed. His blade flicked to life and the Desert Fox began to move. Slowly at first but building into something splendid.

As he had been taught his blade told the time, spinning in slow, lazy passes before him like the hands of a clock. He stepped for the first time in his new sequence and everything about him changed. His speed increased, but time would show that his speed increased with each shift to his technique. The change to him was something wholly deeper. His boastful arrogance melted away, replaced by a profound calm. His feet passed through the four quadrants of the field he had been taught to picture in his mind's eye, two forward corners to press your attack from new angles, to back corners to shift your assailant away from your centerline. He shifted his technique again, his speed ramping higher as he incorporated new parry and lunge styles. Higher and faster with spinning blocks and sweeping assaults. This was a Jedi in motion, at peace with the Force as it moved him like a leaf on a river, flowing from swirling eddies of defense to rushing rapids of offense. Abruptly his sequence ended. The energy left in him shot from his free hand in a burst of unrefined kinetic force to impact the ground at his feet, dirt and leaves flying away from him in a near perfect circle.

"I know my form Keira." His voice came out harshly, more forceful than he had intended. "We had a bargain. You speak, I listen. You teach without coercion. Instruct without corruption. You do so and I will stand by you gladly. I will shelter you from any enemy and do all in my power to help you. Pain teaches lessons Keira. Unless you know more advanced stages of Makashi than you have to teach me something new, regardless of how comfortable I am with it." He paused to regain control of his voice. "I want to stand with you Keira. Teach. You'll find you have forgotten simple things. Every teacher does."

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
A crooked grin turned up one corner of her mouth, and Keira couldn't help but laugh quietly at his admonishments. Each one of them was true, and they both knew it. In terms of philosophy and those methodical approaches, he far outshone her. "Sometimes I wonder who the teacher is. I think I learn just as much from you as you do from me." That only seemed fitting, the sort of balanced partnership she would have sought out from anyone. There existed no individual who didn't still have much to learn. As arrogant of a face that she often put on, she knew that much to be true. "Never lose that quality of saying what you mean when you want to say it. It's a straightforwardness very few people have anymore, and something to be appreciated."

The precision he held carefully guarded as his own was something to be respected, and she saw a refined talent there, one she was quietly impressed by. He could hold his own in combat, she had no doubts about that. But everyone had areas they could improve in, and she was curious as to what his own were, though she already had her suspects. "You don't want to be the first to attack. You took up a refined form such as Makashi so you would have something to fall back on, something that would bring down your adversaries quickly and cleanly should they prove unprepared. But its precise bladework allows you to abide by the standards you've always set for yourself." She paused, nodding with a smile. "Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong."

For a moment she toyed with her saber, letting it flip around her fingers nonchalantly. "Likewise, I prefer Ataru and Djem-So because I'd much rather strike the first blow and end a fight before it can even begin. Blunt force and acrobatics allow me to overwhelm my opponents so they don't have a chance to think. My point is that we often choose our fighting styles based loosely on our personalities without even being aware of it. I can teach you my forms all I want, but you have to make them work for yourself." Combat was an art form, one of the highest sort, and it was that she appreciated above all else in the galaxy. Because at some point it all came down to how well you could hold your own.

Igniting her saber again she spun it before her, letting it cross her form in a web of plasma, her movements leisurely. It was hard to believe she was capable of the same brutal lethality she had displayed to him earlier if one saw her like this. Underestimation was just as valuable a technique as any other. "How adverse would you be to a sparring match as a sort of warm-up and exercise? I think it would help us both to know the other better in that regard." Something like this required the utmost of trust, something they both seemed to put to the test rather regularly.

[member="Lorraei"]
 
A bashful grin cut across Ray's caramel features and his gaze fell to the ground for a moment. Her admirations caught the man unprepared and his usual boastful attitude didn't have a reply for genuine compliments. His free hand racked his head, pulling his head scarfs off in the same motion. A clever ploy to hide the blush that burned his cheeks briefly. "Brilliance from the mouth of a babe, pateesa. Nothing to swoon over." He laughed, somewhere between nervous and nonchalant. "And don't worry Keira. If your Silver Jedi friend couldn't get me to mind my tongue, I don't foresee many that will. Maybe I'm just stubborn but more often than not, hearing the cold truth is what people need. Too many folk try to sugar coat the hard facts. I just don't waste my time worrying about their feelings, I suppose."

He listened to her explanation of his combat styling, nodding here and there. His cocksure grin returned in full force the moment she asked if she were wrong, "It's some what funny actually. I didn't want to learn the blade and was hesitant to go on the offense when I was first being taught. Later, not long before I left, my master told me I lacked the self control for more aggressive forms. Seems I am to arrogant for offensive techniques." He shrugged one shoulder, clearly unfazed by the conflicting assessments of how and why he had studied Makashi.

Again he nodded when she finished speaking of her own preferences in bladework. He could find no fault in her explanations. He had studied music and performance art for several years before joining the Jedi order. And his control over the Force meshed well with the finite swordsmanship he had been taught. The two aspects of him had gone hand in hand. Keira radiated strength, raw power and her mind left little room for indecision. Ataru, Djem-So. They spoke to the very core of Keira's soul, resonating harmoniously with who she was. "I will not disappoint you pateesa. I will find a way to make them work for me, even if I must remake myself to do it."

He saw the warning signs, the casual way she fiddled with her saber hilt, the uncharacteristically slow spin of the plasma blade as she played with the notion of fighting him. When she asked he could feel the deeper implications of the question. Do you trust me? His answer was simple and rather humble all things considered. He inhaled deeply, gathering what strength he could from the Force. His hilt floated about his hand, tumbling end over end several times. There was a moment where in his mind the world became crystal clear, his focus finding harmony with the Force. His blade landed in his right hand and ignited in purplish plasma. His left hand rose slowly to chest level and he motioned for Keira to advance.

A smile cocked the left side of his lips.

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
"It just so happens that I'm of the opinion you shouldn't overly concern yourself with the feelings of another when it comes to the truth, so I suppose we agree on that much." Tact had never been her strong suit, and there were no doubts that it would ever be. It was much easier and far more worthwhile to cut to the heart of things. "You underestimate yourself, I think. If there's one thing that's stuck with me over the years, it's that you're always smarter or stronger than you're led to believe. The second you start believing that you're less than what you are is the second you begin to limit yourself." The only limits were those an individual places on themselves and, well, those that were reasonable as well.

When he mentioned the Jedi she shook her head with a smile, an indication of just how little the opinion any of their ilk held mattered to her. "Don't bother with whatever you may have been told. I would argue that it's necessary to lose a fraction of your self-control when utilizing the more aggressive forms. Not so much that you forget yourself, but enough to move instinctively and fluidly through the motions. The Jedi might frown upon aggression, but some sort of it is required in combat so you keep up the will to win." While she didn't exactly believe that passion and other emotion should be one's sole drive throughout the entirety of their existence, everything had its time and place.

Once his blade snap-hissed into existence her alertness appeared to shift into overdrive, everything about her at once becoming more predatory and intently aware of every nuance in their surrounding environment. It was a transformation only combat was able to bring about in her, one that quieted all thought except for those immediately central to the fight ahead. But she would take things slowly rather than rushing in as was typical on the battlefield. He was a close friend, and her intent wasn't to injure but rather to teach. So her sequence would begin simply, with an upwards strike that brought her blade into both hands before it came swiftly back down, then slicing right to left and left to right. She had every confidence in his ability in that moment.

[member="Lorraei"]
 
His trademark rogue's grin cut his tanned features, boyish dimples piercing his cheeks, "This, I think, is why I am so fond of you pateesa. We agree on so very many things it's surreal." An easy, rolling laugh left him as he nodded his appreciation to her. The young man all but glowed under her approval, having found so little of it among "proper" Jedi Masters during his brief years with the Order.

His instincts cried out a warning as the pair faced one another. The change in Keira's demeanor was like night and day. An unsettling stillness settled over the woman as her mind switched gears from their more or less idle conversation to the warrior that now stood before him. It took honest effort on his part to push away the discomfort that gripped him as the massive darkness that was his mistress turned it's focus on him.

Still he found his center and quieted his unrest as he drew in the Force. His awareness coming to a crystalline focus as she advanced. Immediately he was aware of her self imposed constraints as she swung, but how long would she hold back was the real concern. Her blade came up and he simply spun his own up the side of his body as he stepped back. It wasn't a real block so to speak, he merely moved with the motion to keep her blade away from his body. His blade continued it's rotation, coming down on the other side of him, again he just brushed her blade away from his centerline. He saw her next step well ahead of her actual motions and knew her two handed grip would overwhelm him if he sought to stop her blade outright. As she cut across right to left his saber rolled up carrying her's high as he lend back to avoid the stroke. When the blade passed he surged forward, spinning past her as his blade swept at the back of her calf. He simply wasn't there for her final slash to find.

The two traded positions on the field as he spun past. Once more he came on guard, his blade low before him in an almost idle grip.

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
For all of the downplaying he liked to do of his own ability the speed and grace with which he moved told a far different story than he liked to make out for himself. Unlike her own movements, which were altogether blunt and straightforward, his spoke of a fluidity that very few naturally possessed. The manner in which he avoided every swing of her blade spoke of a precision that belied what most would presume his true standing to be in their relationship. Her weapon spun down to halt the swipe at her calf, and she nodded once in appreciation of the move. He hadn't hesitated, lashing out instinctively and seemingly without a thought applied to his actions, something that was oftentimes necessary on the battlefield.

Without so much as a moment for recompense she closed the gap between them once more, utilizing the sharper, swifter strikes that served to overwhelm an opponent if they were entirely unprepared. But her speed was once again drawn back, allowing him time to block and perhaps counter if he found himself ambitious enough, which she had no doubt he would. Soon enough they would settle into a comfortable rhythm of swings, blocks, parries and ripostes, but until then would test the other's mettle until they were satisfied in what reactions were witnessed and what defenses were manifested. Don't hold back. She knew he wouldn't, but willed it all the same. Don't.

[member="Lorraei"]
 
A flick, the iconic crackle of two plasma blades ringing against one another and the combatants parted for a brief instant. Keira nodded and distantly Lorraei could sense her approval of his quick retaliation. In the moment however he had no time to process her nod or her approval, no she was much to quick for that. Information to be processed at a later date, meditated upon perhaps. His mistress closed on him in the span of a single breath, her blade whipping brilliant orange streaks through the air as she pressed his defenses again. Time and again his saber turned her's enough for him to roll aside from the attack. Time and again his meager retaliations were swept aside as if they were a part of her sequence and not his own assaults. There was no win to be had in this fight, he had known that from the moment she had suggested the match. He could feel her hesitation. It was masked behind her charge, difficult to find if you didn't know how to read people. She was searching for his breaking point, the extent of his skill with a blade. She would find it sooner rather than later at this pace. Something had to change.

Ray opened a gap between them once more, rolling past her newest advance and swept his blade at her back. She responded as expected, her blade appeared to turn his away and she surged forward again, pressing him into more rapid sweeps of his blade to keep her at bay. He fought like water, ironic considering his birth place, her strikes were turned away as the Desert Fox flowed from defensive pattern to defensive pattern, never staying in place to apply resistant simply gliding away from her advance. He wouldn't be able to outrun her forever.

Don't hold back. Don't.

His skills with a blade couldn't hold a candle to the raging firestorm that was the swordswoman before him. His strength was in guile, misdirection and his silver tongue. A plan formed in the blink of an eye as he rolled past her assault for the third time. She wouldn't fall for that same sorry tactic, he knew it as surely as she did. As she closed on him again his presence swelled, his emotions running rampant. He threw his growing sense urgency and worry at her like a ton of bricks, letting her feel his emotions as surely as if they were her own. In the same moment he threw a burst of unrefined kinetic energy at the forest floor between them, throwing dirt an debris into the air as he lept away from her in a clean back flip.

Misdirection, the lot of it. At the pinnacle of his flip, the moment her eyes should be closed against the flying dirt, he tossed a thin throwing spike into the air. It sailed well above and beyond her some twenty feet into the air. He landed, saber flickering as though he were trying to capitalize on the distraction of dirt and leaves. The moment their blades began to ring against one another he touched his far off throwing spike with the Force, pulling directly at her from behind. If he was lucky the spike would catch her in the lower back, or perhaps the gluteus. As long as he prevented her from crouching there was little risk of serious injury. His blade cut a quick upward cross section before him trying to hold her upright.

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
He was smart, fast and unwavering, and she was proud of every move he made, no matter what disadvantage it placed her at. This was exactly how he should have gone about clashing with an opponent more experienced than himself, and he was handling every moment perfectly. The sheer weight of the emotion imposed upon her required a few moments on her part to shrug off, and by that time he had already sent the spray of dirt flying towards her face. Instinctively she raised her arm against the debris, erecting a minute insubstantial barrier that would serve to batter away the majority of the distraction, allowing her awareness to return to immediately about herself. Yes, he was smart, and she was glad of that.

Again their sabers sparked across each other, and it seemed as if the bout had returned to normalcy. Too late she detected the throwing spike as it sluiced through the air towards her from behind, and she managed to do nothing more than sidestep in order to prevent the worst of the injury, that razor sharp edge still slicing across her side, crimson immediately welling to the surface. Stifling a string of curses she flashed a crooked grin besides, all told impressed with the tactic. Then it was her turn to distance herself from him with a flip and twist through the air, and she did nothing more than observe where and how he stood for those first few seconds of recompense, considering just how far advanced he was.

"Impressive. Very, very impressive. You know your own strengths and how to best exploit them while diminishing your weaknesses, which is more than most can say for themselves. Never lose that, because I can assure you that will be the day you step on the battlefield for the last time." That was yet another warning she hoped he would take to heart, even if just because it came from her and no one else. "If you'd like we can continue, or we can work on something else if you'd rather. Just say the word. The choice is yours alone." He was just as much the director of his own learning as she was, but she would defer all responsibility to him in terms of what he wished to learn.

[member="Lorraei"]
 
Orange and purple blades clashed furiously as Keira pressed her assault. The Dark Jedi pushed her young apprentice ever closer to the limits of his skills with a blade. A maelstrom of crackling plasma raged around the two, a deadly symphony of martial prowess. One mistake, one iota of hesitation, could have easily ended someone's life. Yet Lorraei found himself smiling as he danced with his mistress. In that shining moment nothing mattered, nothing existed, beyond the sweeping sabers and his dark mistress. He could have stayed there until the end of time itself, basking in the bone deep trust they shared and the overwhelming sense of pride his performance had kindled in Keira's heart.

Then his own underhanded tactic ruined everything. Her trust, her pride, her excitement was all destroyed in an instant, replaced by a startled moment of realisation. Panic surged through them both, or perhaps he panicked enough for both of them, as his throwing spike raced toward her lower back. The Desert Fox cried out a warning purely instinctively, "Keira!"

She twisted aside, the spike leaving an angry red streak across her side. A moment later she was airborne, sailing backward to create distance between them. Lorraei strode forward, concern clearly written across his caramel features. Keira's words however put a halt to his pursuit. He listened quietly as she spoke, nodding grimly as she issued her warning.

His blade died with a hiss and a crackle a moment later. "I yield Pateesa. We both know you have me taking desperate measures already. You are still holding back and now you're hurt. We should stop before I lose a hand." He smiled, though it lacked his usual mischievous charm, "How badly did I hurt you?" He started toward her again, intent to remedy what harm he had done.

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
There was no response on her part for a moment as she probed the wound, hissing quietly in pain as her fingers came away coated in crimson. All told it wasn't anything too serious, though that didn't help to remedy the stinging pain. Drawing on the Force, a light mist seemed to gather about her right hand, and she let it hover over the wound. The edges slowly stitched together, repairing the majority of the damage but still leaving an angry red line mostly sealed over with white scar tissue. Her ability to heal via the ethereal wasn't perfect by any means, as evidenced by the scarring left over, but it sufficed for minor injuries such as this. A quiet sigh of relief from pain passed her lips, and she seemed to stand straighter.

A smile manifested, and Keira gently placed a hand on his shoulder, hopefully stemming a degree of his concern. "I've been shot and stabbed more times than I can count, cut with a lightsaber and caught up in a number of fistfights. In comparison, this was minor. You don't have anything to worry about." If she could continue through the duration of a battle with a bullet wound twisting around her side, then this was simple. It was almost funny, what was considered simple after enduring over a decade of near-constant war. "Besides, if I were you I'd be proud of landing a hit like that. I didn't come close to striking my mentor until we'd fought four or five times. Of course, him being a Gen'Dai didn't help any." Oh, what a pair they had made.

"So," Her smile was entirely carefree, "What would you like to move on to?"

[member="Lorraei"]
 
Lorraei watched in quiet contemplation as his Mistress manipulated the Force, sealing her wound to an ugly little scar. By the time she had finished The Desert Fox had come to stand before her, trying to garner a better understanding of the delicate working she had managed. The differences in their power was night and day. She held tremendous, earth shattering, amounts of metaphysical strength in check through sheer grit and determination. He on the other hand had a level of finite control that few could replicate. His mastery of the force was limited to a handful of quant tricks, but he had them worked down to an art.

His little backstab tactic had been simple to him, a near effortless exercise in telekinesis. Others, or so he had come to understand, would have grabbed every piece of debris in the air and pulled the whole lot of them instead of the one piece of steel he wanted. Better still, the spike had scored a hit. Not much of one, but one wound could change the tide of battle instantly. Even if he felt badly about injuring Keira.

His Mistress was no one's fool, and certainly no slouch. Her adaptability and resourcefulness was nothing short of astounding, at least to the young rogue. In the short time they had known one another Lorraei's fear and wariness of the woman had been wholly replaced with awe and admiration. He'd never admit, even to himself, that he was quickly becoming infatuated with the Dark Jedi.

His expression remained concerned despite her reassurances regarding the "minor" injury. "I honestly never expected that spike to find it's mark. I was certain you would have sensed it the moment I reached for it." He smiled sheepishly, trying to show as much worry over the wound as Keira had. He doubted it was successful.

After a few moments of awkwardly staring at his feet he pulled a cigarette tin from his sash and held it open in offering. He plucked one free for himself and produced a lighter along with it. A few puffs later he continued, "My repertoire is rather limited to things that require repetition as opposed to instruction Pateesa. I understand your desire for me to dictate my own path and I am grateful for your adherence to our original agreement Keira, but I'm uncertain how to proceed here today. Your skill with a blade far outweighs my own, this we know." He paused to chuckle softly. "I do however have a deeper grasp on my standing with a blade. I'm not likely to survive a true fight with one of your caliber, but at least I won't be cut down so easily. I need more time, more training."

He stopped again to take another drag from his cigarette, "Show me how to do something new. I think that would be a good place to start. I have seen your presence, Pateesa. I imagine you're quite skilled at wielding the Force."

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
'Something new' wasn't exactly an elaborate idea, and her skill with the Force wasn't always something Keira was proud of. It had brought her more than a fair share of trouble in the past, and ended more lives than most should have laid claim to. More than that, something about the darker, cloying aspects had once twisted her beyond recognition, turning her into a shell of her former self for years on end. The time had come where she had learned to control her power and the destructive impulses that had come along with it, and now, years later, she was perhaps better for it. And her ability wasn't something she exactly feared anymore, after learning the intricacies of just what she was capable of.

"I've done a lot of things with my ability that I'm not proud of. I've killed a lot of people, fought for causes I'd rather see burn, and helped bring governments to their knees. That's not a path I want you to follow. I will teach you to control your power, so that you don't fall as I have." Normally she would have declined the cigarette, but everyone had their vices, and this was far better than those she had indulged in in the past. Lighting it, she took a drag and exhaled smoke to the side. "My presence has changed since last you glimpsed at it. I have more of a control over the darkness, and it doesn't corrupt me quite as deeply as it used to. It's not perfect, but it's far better." Not an invitation for him to once again look into her presence, but he would find no resistance if he did so.

Drawing on the ethereal she pulled a fraction of her power into her core, kneading it like clay in an almost thoughtful manner as she considered just what to pass on. "While I won't say that it's necessarily impossible for me to complete amazing feats of power, my scope of talent isn't quite as wide as many others. I've found my niche in telekinetics and a small handful of other abilities, but the former is where I focus myself." For her throwing something as large as a speeder was a simple task, and one she had followed through with more than enough times. That meant taking life was simply offhand, and that was the case for the most part. She could end one's existence with nothing more than a look, and throw a knife or other weaponry with deadly intent via nothing more than a twitch of the fingers.

"You want me to teach you something new. Care to elaborate?"

[member="Lorraei"]
 
The humor drained from Lorraei's expression, his dark eyes no longer sparkled with their usual mischievous merriment. His black gaze sought Keira's without fear or hesitation even as his awareness reached out toward her. For all the darkness that stained her, for all the terrible might at her disposal, Ray had nothing to fear from his dark mistress. He knew, bone deep, that Keira would never lever her true strength against him in anger or with malicious intent. It simply wasn't something she was capable of, or so he believed.

"Keira," They were so different these two nomads, even Lorraei had difficulty ignoring that fact. The seasoned warrior, baring so many scars he wondered if she could even count them all. The desert scholar, who's wisdom and cunning had proven stunning to one so widely traveled as Keira Ticon. "You are overly critical of yourself I should think. The past does not define who or what we are. The past is a tool from which we learn the most about ourselves. Your past haunts you, and leaves a stain upon your soul, yet you are learning one of life's most difficult lessons, my Lady Keira. You had fallen, now you learn what strength is needed to pick yourself up once more. A trial even the most feared of the Sith do not have the strength to attempt."

The Desert Fox turned briefly, his hand and will extending back toward his fallen throwing spike. It sped through the air, a steely little comet, to Ray's waiting hand before he turned back to his mistress. "Do not fear that I will fall Keira. If it is my destiny to fall there is nothing you or I will ever be able to do to change that fate." He too drew in the Force. His voice going silent for a moment as he concentrated on gathering together all the energy he could hold. When he spoke his voice rang with power he could barely constrain, "I do not fear falling Mistress, nor should you fear that I might. I would be much more concerned about what would happen if I lack the strength to rise up!"

Suddenly his arms were thrown out to either side, the energy he had gathered and a collection of throwing weapons following the motion. A dozen razor edged knives and needle tipped spikes rolled through the air as Lorraei's will carried them away from his body. His arms drifted through a circular motion, his hands coming to rest one above the other in front of his chest. The deadly cloud of weapons responded to his will instantly as they began to gather about him in a slowly spinning circle of steel. The effort of keeping so many objects moving in sequence was less strenuous than he had expected, so he pushed his abilities further. A moment later each weapon began to tumble end over end as they circled him, his face going blank as he concentrated on the display.

It was to much. His hands jerked toward the ground, his cutlery moving with the gesture to impact the ground point first. His shoulders sagged as he drew a ragged breath. "We both share a talent for telekinesis. Unfortunately my skill with it is rather limited. Small objects are easy enough, even a good number of them is well within my capabilities. I lack muscle, so to speak. Perhaps you would be willing to pass on some of you skills here, Patessa?" His trademark smile split his caramel features.

[member="Keira Ticon"]
 
It was difficult for one like her to forget the past when it was the reason she had become just who she was. However, his sentiment was both understood and appreciated, and Keira nodded with a small smile. "I know I can't let it define me, but I can't outright push it aside either. Neither would prove beneficial to learning or moving on from it all. I need to accept what happened, because otherwise it may well have not in the first place. But I can't let it control me. And I won't. It just takes time." And time was a commodity lately, especially when it came to, once again, those like her. But she was learning, slowly but surely, what it meant to take things slow and not rush into everything recklessly as she had used to. It was a challenge some days, but she was learning.

There were some things she would never adapt to or change, however, and that was her opinion on those things supposedly fated to happen. "Destiny isn't something I choose to throw my lot in with. That's something we create for ourselves, not something that's decided for us. There may be things that can't be changed, but you can guarantee I'm going to fight every step of the way until there's no other option. And if you only take one thing away from our time together, I want it to be that. Fight for yourself and what you believe in above all else, because that's what matters." It was rare that she ever gave genuine advice to anyone, but this was an individual she had connected with on a level far deeper than most, even if their meetings had been sporadic throughout years of knowing each other.

His display of telekinesis brought a crooked grin to her face. It was one of her talents she prized above all else, and to see him demonstrate such skill in it with minimal training was truly amazing. "I would say you've come plenty far already. If you're able to manage that much with little to no formal instruction, it will be interesting to see how you grow into your ability later." With seemingly little thought and a slow raising of her right hand she levitated the entirety of his arsenal from its place being stuck in the ground, turning her hand over and spinning them once, breathing in and exhaling slowly to keep herself centered. "It's difficult to explain, but when it comes to moving a large amount of objects, don't focus on each one individually. Focus on the whole, and picture in your mind what you want to happen. Eventually you won't have to do even that, and all of it will come naturally."

Her hand slowly lowered, bringing the weapons to a heel and placing them almost delicately on the ground. "I'm not certain if my advice was entirely helpful. If you have any questions, please don't be afraid to ask. Telekinesis is one of those talents that I have a bit of a...specialty in."

[member="Lorraei"]
 

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