Making a Splash (Ashin)

[Darron Wraith]

Kamino


How did I end up here....and now?

Blue eyes intently watched the massive waves as they crashed against the window in his room, the storm outside was only getting worse. Thank the Force I arrived when I did, only large freighters could probably take off in this right now. The ship that had brought him to this aquatic world was more than likely still on it's landing pad, the Kaminoans were very strict about those types of things. At least some things don't seem to ever change, he mused to himself as his blue eyes admired the view before him. It had always amazed him at how the Kaminoans had managed to build their massive cities in spite of the raging oceans. Part of him saw this as a violation of the way nature had intended the world to be, but in all honesty he was too impressed with how they had defied the elements and mastered their world.

"Master Wraith, here is the lock box you left twenty years ago. Might I be of any further service?" Anuta Ta was the official liason between the government here and the Jedi Order, Darron had no clue how long they lived but the Kaminoan looked exactly the same as she had when he had originally come to this world before leaving. To be fair though, I look the same too. The Jedi's face briefly had a scowl upon it before resuming a neutral expression.

"No thank you, this will do. You have already extended enough hospitality towards me with this room and treating me for carbonite sickness." Darron gave the Anuta Ta a bow and walked across the vast suite toward the four foot tall durasteel container he had left on the world two decades ago. Just as he was about to open the keypad to enter in the password and confirm to the box it was him his guest addressed him once more.


"An old friend of yours said for you to meet him at Club Aqua before you leave to see him. With that I bid you farewell, also your Jedi star fighter has been refurbished and serviced. The ship is ready for you to leave whenever you so desire."

He managed a curt nod as his guest left him alone in the massive loft he had been staying at for the past month. Thanks to his past heroics during a mission on this planet many years ago he was well respected on this world. When he had arrived a month ago he was blind, had little strength and had only recently been rescued by his friend Je'gan Olraen, who despite all the years without so much as a clue to Darron's whereabouts had found him and freed him from that mercenaries stronghold. The Jedi Master stroked his chin in thought as he remembered the hectic rescue, the only thing he could see was darkness and Je'gan's voice was his only companion besides the sounds of weapons and then the sensation of being thrown onto a ship that had brought him here. You fool, why didn't you board the ship with me...and why did you sacrifice so much for me?

Without even realizing it, Darron had entered the code into the storage box and had given his thumb print all while deep in reverie. The only thing that shook him from his thoughts was the sound of air finally entering the box as it's lid opened and the bottom of it split into a shelf. Taken by surprise for only a second, the Jedi perused the items he had left behind, each thing holding a special memory in his heart. Guess I need to get dressed and get out of here, a month of training and healing has been long enough. With a wave of his hand, the Jedi extended his will to the console by the window, causing the blinds to shut and activating every light in the main chamber of his loft.

Finally alone, the Jedi Master completely disrobed revealing his heavily muscled frame, scars from former battles and training popped up everywhere on his otherwise perfect physique. He took a moment to stretch his back before putting on his black trousers and sliding on his black combat, knee high boots with golden durasteel plates on the front to protect his shins. Blue eyes darted to the new prosthetic forearm and hand on his right that he had been outfitted with recently, the old one had been destroyed when he was frozen. The new replacement was near perfect, it weighed as much his other forearm, and the durasteel and gold plating protecting its inner workings make it as thick as his other forearm. Technology has come a long way in two decades, he loved how well his new hand handled in training sessions while he had been on Kamino. It was just as fast as his normal hand and he no longer felt handicapped by his old battle would anymore, in-fact a communicator had been installed in it as well as a few tools should he need them. Reaching into the locker, Darron grabbed the black leather glove he wore over his prosthetic and quickly slid it on and tightened the silver buckles that ran up the length of it.

Looking over the contents of the locker, Darron grabbed the black form-fitting undershirt with some light armor woven into it and slid it on and tucked it in. His hand of flesh reached in a grabbed his utility belt, he quickly checked all the pouches over before sliding it around his thin waist and buckling it. His golden cortosis, Jeison Sha inspired greaves came next, and a smile crossed his face as he put them on his forearms. The gold plated, durasteel chest piece and shoulder pads were put on next, and the Jedi Master remembered his excitement he had felt when he had first received these gifts for saving the Zeison Sha leader. Though the light armor looked impressive, for a Jedi to say the least, it was as light as a feather.

There it is...

A single tear fell down his face, following the path of the thin lightsaber scar on his cheek. The gloved hand held the simple silver necklace with a simple locket on it, inside was a picture of his son Jason. I miss you son, please forgive my failures and know I love you. His emotions re-centered themselves as he pulled the chain over his head and slid it under the chest piece to protect it. His core shook once more as he reached in the container and pulled out his electrum plated lightsaber hilt, he had been only a boy when he had made it on Illum and his mind seemed to wander these days now that he was back in the world. A smile crossed his face as he clipped it to his belt, there were about ten more lightsaber hilts in the container. Trophies from battles, and gifts from other Jedi for his service to the order or as signs of friendship. I know which one I will take with mine, with a pull of the Force Je'gan's lightsaber floated across the room and into his outstretched hand. For some reason his fellow Jedi Master had left the weapon with him when he had saved him, guess I need this for something. Once that was clipped to his belt as well, he pulled out his black cloak and slid it on over his armor, pushed his long blonde locks out of his face and pulled the hood over his face.

The Jedi Master closed the locker, punched in a command to have it sent to his ship and it's contents loaded on his fighter. With that done Darron turned off all the lights in the loft and left to head to Club Aqua to see who wanted to meet him..

 

[Ashin Varanin]

'He' was a misnomer.

But Ashin had learned well from Delana Saan, Darth Ahkris, master of multiple identities and uncertain allegiances. The armor she wore might have suggested a bit of curve, but a dark cloak enveloped everything as she skulked self-consciously in the corner of Club Aqua. The hood concealed her face, her scars, the faded mark of a Sith tattoo in the center of her forehead. That tattoo's ink had faded long ago, as it had been designed to do, leaving only an outline of rough scar tissue.

Much like the man she intended to meet, it was a relic of older days, a chaotic vestige in a universe full of chaotic vestiges. She pulled the hood a little lower over her face, brushing against the numerous long, thin braids in which she wore her hair. Talismans, thorns, beskar medallions and shards of crystal pierced the braids or dangled from them, each a tiny focus point. The thorn-based knotwork was one dialect of ancient Sith, learned from her last true Masters, Velok and Darth Sirena, each a dominator of the Unknown Regions.

Before Ashin cast them down, of course. Sirena's fall had been subtle in execution and sudden in effect, a coup d'etat that framed her as the perpetrator of atrocities against powerful actors. Those atrocities had been Velok's work, and Ashin had respected the old Whiphid gamesmaster enough to defeat and exile him personally.

Much like the man she intended to meet, they were the old guard, and to some extent so was she, although Darron Wraith's two decades in carbonite had begun when she was less than ten. In a normal life, even a normal Force-wielder's life, such power would not have come to her save after half a century of meditation and practice. Such had been the life she had seen from childhood, when she first heard a Jedi Master say 'The Force is weak with this one.'

Her strength was a matter of chance, a matter of artifacts destroyed and wells deepened, and that rankled. Even now, with a few years as Dark Lord of the Sith under her belt - at least, in some sectors of the galaxy - even now, she had a healthy respect for those born to power.

Much like the man she intended to meet.

But the Sith legacy was not for her, though powerful Masters had hoped to sway her to that cause. And she had let them believe in her conversion, long enough to learn their ways and benefit from their teachings. In her heart, she remembered the cleanness and simplicity of the Jedi, but the Light Side of the Force was lost to her, courtesy of one of the five poisons that ran through her blood.

She knew the Dark Side, but she knew it on her own terms.

A tall, armored man entered the club, and Ashin stood in one fluid motion despite her own thirty pounds of alchemical armor. The lacquer was painted with jagged, overlapping geometries in red, blue and gold, and she wore no helmet with it. At her side she carried the simple lightsabre she had constructed as a Jedi Knight.

The club silenced itself as she crossed the floor unsubtly, black cloak flowing after her. She brought the hood down, and watched his eyes as he sensed the Dark Side.

"Master Wraith, I'm Master Ashin Cardé Varanin. You knew my grandfather, Je'gan Olra'en."

 

[Darron Wraith]

The sounds and sights of Club Aqua were quite the contrast from the sterile hallways and elevators he had taken to get to the club. Though he had once heard from a Kaminoan that to their senses the walls were actually quite bright, human eyes just couldn't see the colors. He had once dipped in the Force to examine the walls and had seen that the Kaminoan had been right, he hadn't forgotten the assault of color. It's much better just looking at it with a naked eye, his head shook at the memory. Though standing in the club now, he could see that it had been decorated for so that more species would find the decorations appealing. The "music" if it could be called that was blaring through many speakers and beings of all races, with a heavy portion of Kaminoans moved to the beats and rhythms. The smell of alcohol and other substances was practically choking him, but he tuned that all out along with the music.

Standing at 6'5 inches normally allowed Darron to tower over most beings with the exception of Wookies, but the Kaminoans practically dwarfed him. It was an odd sensation for a man who had always seen himself as rather large. He had to watch every step and keep his cloak pulled close as he maneuvered his way through the thick throng of people in the club. He could feel excitement and happiness with his senses, yet just under the surface there was a strong current of darkness that was at the edge of his senses. Upon feeling this, the Jedi Master emptied his mind and allowed the Force to flow into him and extended his sphere of responsibility to cover the entire club at the exact same time. Yes the same feelings of elation and happiness were there, he could also feel those who were abusing substances as their aura's were damaged, the security guards seemed quite alert. There were no threats in the area to anyone, except for that nagging darkness he felt. That was when Darron was suddenly addressed by a woman as she pulled her hood off her face.

"Master Wraith, I'm Master Ashin Cardé Varanin. You knew my grandfather, Je'gan Olra'en."

The Jedi Master's face froze at the statement, how in the hell does she know my name? She's Je'gan's granddaughter....then why is she practically dripping with the darkside? That one sentence only seemed to bring with it a hundred more questions. How was she able to find him, much less even know who he was? Darron had been so sure the Jedi had forgotten about him during his two decades of being gone with the exception of Je'gan. He was officially listed as MIA on the Council database and there had been no active searches for him in over 18 years. Yet here was some woman, strong in the darkside of the Force, wearing what appeared to be alchemical armor and it looked like she had been waiting for him this whole time. In his minds eyes he could see all the dots, but some just wouldn't connect.

So instead he pulled the hood off of his head, revealing his long blonde locks and he stared long and hard at the woman. "Yes I am Darron Wraith, and I was very close friends with your grandfather. In fact he is the entire reason I am here talking to you right now." Blue eyes intently regarded her scars, he could recognize the Sith crystals in her hair and the braids, her armor was that of a darksider's. The multiple scars on her face indicated she had been in many fights, and the aggression building within her only meant that this conversation was a formality. The rest of the beings in the bar seemed to just fade away, and the music seemed to silence in his mind. To Darron it was just him and Je'gan's grandfather now in the club, and whatever was about to happen the Jedi Master was ready for it.

"You're the one who requested my presence here and the one who paid for my loft aren't you? Why do all of this, and I know you are of the darkside, what do you want with me Master Ashin?"

 

[Ashin Varanin]

The club seemed to fade around them -- a trick of perception, maybe -- and life came to a halt. Not its physical existence, but its symbolic power. All the vitality, both corrupt and pure, that suffused this room, all the good cheer of its participants, drained away into awkward silence.

By common consent, the room began to clear.

Ashin reached up nonchalantly and touched Darron's cheek. "Apologies," she said after a long moment. "My grandfather is no more real to me than you were until now. A man is like one of the waves below us -- a form without substance or permanence. Right now, you and I are only ripples. Or turbulence, if you prefer."

Her fingertips found the clasp of her cloak and unhooked the chromed metal from itself. The weight of tough black fabric slithered to the floor, further revealing her heavy armor. It was not the sort of gear one would expect from a career lightsabre duellist, nor from someone who wholly preferred to wield the Force. In its way, the armor's bulk spoke to a sort of bravado - as well as the physical power of the tall, broad-shouldered woman within. She had a couple of inches on her grandfather, with the core-dense build of a career martial artist. Otherwise, she could never have worn this armor in the battles indicated by the marks of lightsabres, blasters, explosions and blades. The damage was confined to the lacquier. The metal beneath was unnervingly untouched.

"And I do prefer, Master Wraith, for reasons that are my own."

A sky-blue blade ignited in her hand.

 

[Darron Wraith]

Darron couldn't help but notice how close Ashin had gotten to him, trying to keep the act of civility going on for another moment or two. It took everything within the Jedi Master to not snatch her hand and try and disarm her when she gently stroked his cheek. She was rather tall for a woman but he still had a few inches and about 60-70 pounds on her. Yet, that was all it was, just a simple touch on the cheek before she backed away and unclasped the cloak she was wearing. As the black cloth fell to the ground, the Jedi Master couldn't help but look at her armor, it was covered in scorch marks and lightsaber burns. Though he noticed that there was no structural damage to it. So she's taken a few licks, but nothing major. Obviously she's good at killing things, and I'm next on her list. Whatever her reason's were, Darron could hear the conviction in her words as she spoke to him.


"What game are you trying to play?"

The words barely escaped as hips as he heard the snap-hiss of her lightsaber. Where there had only been silence and just Ashin, he was suddenly aware of screams and he could feel everyone in the club desperately trying to escape. Good, that will keep the collateral damage to a minimum. His mind tried to think of a way to reason with the darksider, to think of the words and syllables that would stop this course of action. In his heart though he knew there was one inevitability and that was that he would have to fight against his very best friend's granddaughter. The Jedi's face darkened as he let his robes slide of his shoulders to reveal the Zeison Sha armor underneath. "We don't have to do this, I was a dear friend of your grandfather. Let me help you." His words were heartfelt, but he knew deep in his soul they were pointless. The conviction of her words conveyed that her present path of action was the correct way to her.


He let out a loud exhale as he focused his energies for what was about to happen. As his mind began to clear, he reached down to his belt and unclipped both electrum plated hilts and held them tight. Darron's focus turned towards his will to win, and the thrill of combat. It was the main pillar of his form of fighting, Vaapad, and he was a Master of it. He could feel Ashin's darkness radiating towards him, and combined with his will to win the Jedi Master went through the penumbra of the darkside and allowed himself to form a superconducting loop between the pair in the blink of an eye. Just standing there, she was feeding his power, and he was ready to match her ferocity of his own. In the back of his mind, he lamented at what was about to happen. Maybe, I can disarm her and save her, the thought comforted him as he turned all his focus on the circuit.

"Please reconsider before you do this, I'm not a man to fight I can promise that."

Two azure blades activated as his thumbs hit the switches on the hilts, their snap-hiss sounding like a threat. The smell of ozone permeated the air from the three blades, and all of Darron's attention was on the Master before him. Her next move a mystery to him...

 

[Ashin Varanin]

"Oh, but Master Wraith -- Darron? May I call you Darron? -- you are exactly the man to fight. I would call it a game, but that belies my purposes, and there are several. Multicausal explanations must be embraced, you see."

She circled around him, not pretentiously, merely watching his footwork as he turned to keep facing her. Her own footwork betrayed her long history with Shii-Cho. Some considered her a master of that style, simple as it was. She had no illusions: Her skillset was broad-based, well-rounded. She was no specialist in the lightsabre, unlike the man before her, but she had held her own and stayed alive against some of the galaxy's great duellists.

That much, too, would be clear from her walk, to a man like Darron. He would know and understand that her combat would rely as much upon the Force as upon the lightsabre.

"For one thing," she said, "your life robbed me of the only family I had left. A Master like you should understand that each event has a natural consequence.

"For another thing, you were known as the best. What Dark Jedi in her right mind, and at the top of her game, wouldn't want to test herself against the best, conquer the best? Your death would unlock doors for me, many doors.

"And for another thing, you know as well as I do that you come to know the people you fight. It's in their eyes, the angles of their stances, when they hesitate...and why. I've been told you could be useful, or a threat. Perhaps those are both understatements, but either way, I can only know your place in things by knowing you."

She moved to the attack, an unhurried and deliberate series of mundane strikes that gave his superconducting loop little committed fury to work with. Though she kept anger burning in her gut, she knew how to play the long game, even if it meant appearing sub-par. That was no deliberate attempt to lowball her skills out of the gate; Darron fething Wraith wouldn't fall for anything that simple. It was just a matter of wearing him down, for the moment.

 

[Darron Wraith]

She knows everything about me...how?

Her words on Je'gan wounded him only slightly, he hadn't asked his friend to come rescue him or apparently give his life for him. Quite the contrary in fact, Darron had become resolved to his prison or carbonite. Though his body had been frozen, his mind had remained active for the greater part of two decades with little rest in-between. Every thought led to questions, that only led to more and more questions. Whatever had happened and why, were still quite the mystery to the Jedi Master, as was why the woman circling him had come for him. Whoever had sent her, the mission wasn't just to kill Darron. They want to know if I'm useful, are the darksiders trying to recruit me or kill me? More questions waited for him at the end of that path of thought so he quickly squashed it.

His eyes never left his opponent as she circled him, he kept waiting for the inflection in her voice to reflect contempt towards him but it never did. Instead she tried to bide her time by educating him in principles he was well educated in. Had he been younger he would have fell for the bait, but he knew that that was just her way of trying to get under his skin. The Jedi's face resembled stone as it hardened in resolve as she suddenly came at her with the slow, plodding strikes that were the general make-up of Shii-Cho. Darron barely raised his sabers to deflect the blows as he merely caught and redirected her strikes away from him, he used her own momentum to allow him to back a few paces away so he could further asses her. He was consciously not using Vaapad to throw her off, he made sure that his blocks resembled Je'gan's variation of Soresu. A subtle jab, but one he knew that she would catch.
Want to try and rile me up, and I'll do the same.
The way she moved indicated she was using her true style, and the confidence that practically dripped from her indicated she had the ability to back it up. She was comfortable in the armor, meaning she wasn't encumbered. Speed attacks would give little advantage to one so comfortable in that armor, he could use his natural strength to overpower her but she could easily redirect him if he got overzealous. No, the only way to throw Shii-cho off was to change the rhythm, don't allow her to dictate the flow of the fight and keep his attacks unpredictable. That was the beauty of the form, it's simplicity, and he knew that she wouldn't use it if she wasn't well versed in lulling her opponents into a comfort zone before pouncing with a Force attack.

A grin crossed his face as he had figured her strategy out just from watching the angles she had taken towards him, her stances and even the way she held her blade had told him everything he needed to know.

"You may think you want to test yourself against me, but the only door you will open is the one into the next life. I tried to warn you and you didn't consider my words, I wanted to spare you since you are of the Olraen bloodline, but you have given me no choice Dark Jedi."

He was done with the taunts and the subtle jabs, the Jedi lunged towards Ashin. The ferocity he felt on the inside was a strange contradiction to the calm expression he wore on his face as his feet touched down right infront of Ashin. His small leap having covered all the ground between the two. As soon as he felt his boots touch the floor he stepped out at an angle, his right blade stabbing towards her pelvis while his left came over his should, in a high arcing straight down cut to try and part her arm from her body. I'm sorry Je'gan...

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Ever since the first days of her training, Ashin had experimented with applying broken rhythm to Shii-Cho, and had trained against it when possible. And against Darron, she was far from complacent.

She, too, stepped in, inverting her two-handed grip to ward away the gut shot as she spun left. A whole stretch of the edge of Darron's blade skimmed down her back like a razor. It seared and bubbled away the lacquer in broad swathes.

She reversed her spin, then, and turned back to her right. With a titanic two-handed wrench, her close-in, inverted blade trapped his right sabre and shoved it up and around, trying to bring the crossed blades down at Darron's face. The move had the whole strength of her uncoiling upper body behind it, and she followed it up with a diffuse Force push as his recovering left blade glanced off her armored elbow. The blast was a far cry from her normal work; it was designed to stagger him, no more.

 

[Darron Wraith]

Darron's blade hissed as the energy blade removed a small layer of pain from Ashin's armor, it wasn't as deep as he wanted the cut to go but it was a start. Her deflection of his other blow was surprising, she was using her broken rhythm to try and slow down his powerful staccato blows. Her inside position on him meant that she unfortunately had leverage as she came back around and caught his blade with her's and started to push back against him. The Jedi Master was strong, and normally he'd be fine but she was amplifying her abilities through the Force as well and her Force push moved him back just a step throwing off any leverage he had what so ever. Je'gan's blue blade went from a comfortable distance away, to close, to uncomfortably close as his own shoulder pad started to smoke from the blade. She's going to break my wrist if I don't reposition, the Jedi Master thought to himself.

Digging in his feet and bending his knees a little, the Jedi Master was able to take the pressure off his wrist as he brought his own lightsaber back and pushed both his blades against her's as he regained his leverage. The man dug into his own power and started to push, augmenting his already impressive physical strength to try and bring her blade to bear against her. He had a witty comment ready about how he would add to her scars, but that quickly went away as he remembered that this was Je'gan's granddaughter. Even though he had already accepted the eventuality that he would most likely end up killing the woman who he was currently locking blades with, it didn't make the thought any easier to swallow.

Their blades hissed and protested as they struggled for a moment, the Jedi leaned in close to Ashin. "I hope your sources gave you full disclosure on how I fight, I'd hate for you to be grossly underprepared."

As the syllables left his mouth, Darron forced Ashin's blade up just a couple inches and put all of his weight into his left, front leg as he brought his right foot right square into her armored stomach with the force assisting. Knocking her back a few feet the Jedi Master sprinted at his opponent and unleashed another staccato flurry of attacks. His two blades a blur as his left came in with a quick slash at her midsection before quickly retreating and coming back to stab straight at her head as his right blade went low to her knee cap before he flicked his and brought his blade back around for a high strike aimed right at her throat. Though she wasn't giving him much to feed off of, that was the beauty of Vaapad. The superconducting loop could still function as long as someone was powering it, and the Jedi Master was more than willing to feed it with his will to win and lust for battle.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Ashin grunted as his foot drove into the lacquered plate over her belly, driving her back a step.

Two simultaneous strikes low, two high. It was the sort of ploy that only a master of two-blade fighting could pull off, and exactly the sort of thing that worked well against a single-blade fighter.

And especially well against one whose mobility was limited, as, for example, by twenty kilos of alchemical plate armor. The suit had gaps, of course, such as at the knee, and so she prioritized that block, swinging low to ward off the sky-blue blade that had been her grandfather's. She took the full force of the green blade on her right hip and the thick, overlapping plate there. The impact staggered her and she went with it, even as the contact heated the plate uncomfortably against her skin. A deep sway to the left, and Darron's blades hissed over her arched neck, one glancing off her right pauldron and heating that too.

She broke away with a quick warding flourish, creating space. Behind her, the club's entire bar -- every bottle, every glass -- rose into the air, breaking under the force of her grip. She was, after all, new to great power, and sometimes it got away from her. The exercises of finesse from her youth had prepared her to levitate multiple small objects, but her fresh strength overpowered the delicacy of her control. Wings of broken glass and splashing alcohol swelled up behind her, then wrapped around her to converge on Darron, like a swan enfolding its cygnet benevolently. The floor creaked and squalled underneath her with the efflux of her power.

 

[Darron Wraith]

Whatever momentary bit of triumph he had been feeling as his blades had struck the Dark Jedi's armor was quickly tempered every time he remembered his friend Je'gan. His strategy had worked to perfection, although she wasn't dead, whatever training she had had was quite good. Most would have been decapitated and the fight would have only been a short skirmish, yet here she was still alive and breathing. She had effectively used her blade to act as a barrier while prioritizing which damage she could live with, she was quite astute in her strategies. Darron could see a little of Je'gan's craftiness and intelligence in her, it appeared from her technique that she herself had been taught by his old friend or one of his students. You've been gone a long time Wraith, many things have happened, the galaxy moved on without you.

The ground around him shook, and through the Force Darron could feel Ashin's darkness rising. He just barely saw the bottles and glass behind her, shattering with her power. Oh no, the thought formed in his mind as all the shattered glass and alcohol flowed around her and accelerated at him. With only a second to spare, the Jedi Master pulled up a very poorly constructed barrier to deflect the majority of what was being fired at him. He could feel it stress as the liquid and glass shards flowed around him or simply smashed against his barrier. The man's knees buckled under the strain, his face grimacing. Time to change strategies, and the Jedi Master rechanneled his power to his legs and simply let the barrier fall as he leapt away from his opponent sailing across the club.

"Nice..."

Darron lay on his back for a moment, glass shards were stuck in his breast plate, and he was suddenly aware that he was bleeding from his forehead and his arms. She had sent so much glass that even after the first wave he had multiple pieces stuck in his arms, and a quick glance confirmed that there was blood flowing free into his blonde hair. Okay, that's it. With a flick of the Force, Darron reached into his own body and pulled every piece out at once. The blood started to flow freely as the Jedi Master still laid on his back. Bravado thick in his voice, he addressed Ashin. "You should have quit when you could, your grandfather would have appreciated your telekinetics. Unfortunately, I'm better."

As the words left his mouth, the Jedi wrapped his will around the very bar behind Ashin. The massive durasteel construction started to tremble briefly before he launched it towards her back, as he pulled Darron kicked his legs up and rolled back onto his feet to see what he had done in his mind's eye, his sabers at the ready for anything.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

"If there's one thing I learned from my grandfather, Wraith, it's that every specialist is weak. And you are most certainly a specialist."

Ashin closed her eyes, and the buckled floor behind her warped and rose, forming a contorted ramp. The hardwood might be suitable for socializing, but underneath -- like everywhere else on Kamino -- the floor was made up of durasteel, a long fall, and a cold gray sea. Wind howled through the club as the ocean roared beneath them, and the durasteel bar skidded up the ramp to shoot over her head-

And straight for Darron, propelled by his own pull. She amplified its momentum as best she could while switching her attention from ripping up the floor.

 

[Darron Wraith]

"If there's one thing I learned from my grandfather, Wraith, it's that every specialist is weak. And you are most certainly a specialist."

Under most circumstances, the Jedi Master would have had a wonderful retort for what the Dark Jedi was saying. That idea got scrapped though as she completely blew his plan to hell with that ramp she had just made with the Force. What had been a wonderful idea at disarming her had now been effectively turned into a rather ingenious way to kill him. The Jedi Master released his grip of the bar and instead made haste towards the tables infront of him, his speed carrying him away from the bar as it landing with a rather large crash behind him. So she likes to redirect things just like her grandfather, wonder how she'll redirect this.

As his feet touched the table he deactivated both blades and quickly clipped them to his belt and he sprinted towards Ashin, the Force turning him into almost a blur as he enhanced his speed. Quickly covering the ground between the two, Darron reached behind his opponent and pulled one of the large pipes from behind her newly formed "ramp". With a quick pull the pipe flew at Ashin's head with enough force to wound not kill. It was only a distraction as the Jedi Master closed the distance and wrapped his arms around the thick armor of Ashin and tackled her through the massive hole she had created in the floor behind her. The sterile halls of the city and the beautiful sights of the club faded from his view as he saw the thick sea below him getting closer and closer as they both fell.

"Goodbye granddaughter of Je'gan"

Darron released himself from the Dark-Jedi and pulled his grapple hook from his belt in one motion, with a quick flick of his wrist it sailed up and around a catwalk. The Force guided it, and within moments the Jedi Master was safely on the catwalk, the wind whipping his long blonde hair and water splashing everywhere. I need to move soon, those waves will only rise higher.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

She raised her gauntleted forearm and watched the durasteel pole bend around it, but then he was on her, tackling her -- and he was considerably more mobile. He broke away from her in mid-fall, courtesy of a Jedi-issue grappling hook exactly like the one she had carried for years. Limited options formed another cost of wearing armor this all-enveloping. She had no such grappling hook.

In mid-flight, she stretched out her arm and a nearby landing pad's guardrail broke away, whipping towards her. She took the blow to her gut and made the catch, gauntleted fingers warping the metal of the guardrail. It formed an inflexible rope, and as the far end snapped off she put the full power of the Force into the muscles necessary for pulling something downward. She flew up, turned a graceless somersault, and landed more or less on her feet.

The Dark Master stared across a deep gulf at the catwalk where Darron stood, and reached out her hands. One end of the catwalk broke away and began to fall, leaving him with few options. He could make the leap to the landing pad with her, but she would be waiting with a Force push to catch him in midair.

 

[Darron Wraith]

"You fething idiot!"

Darron was now highly annoyed, instead of taking the easy way out and just letting ocean take her. The Dark-Jedi Master had instead opted to use the Force to allow herself to safety, the distance between the two was a manageable leap for the two. Don't jump over here and make me kill you please? His internal please for Ashin's safety soon turned to curses as he realized what the darksider had decided to do. Her dark tendrils of energy offended him, and through the Force he could feel her will wrapping around the very catwalk that was separating him from the ocean below. To be fair Wraith, you did just try to do the same thing to her. The snarky comment on kharma and the way of the Force were just about to form when he felt the catwalk he was on starting to be ripped away.

The paths before him crystallized in his mind as he considered his options, there were a few that didn't guarantee his safety, and a few that didn't guarantee hers. Why can't you be a typical Dark Jedi with no family that were dear friends of mine, and why can't I be half the man I am and just kill you? The Jedi kicked himself as the path ahead of him became clear, and he decided to set thought to motion. Even if in the back of his mind he knew he was holding back and not doing what was completely necessary to win.

I am a Jedi...

The Jedi Master activated both of his blades again as he leapt off the catwalk and towards Ashin's landing pad. While in mid-air Darron flung his own emerald blade towards her, the Force guiding it's path. I hope this distraction works, if it didn't she would be able to muster enough power to blow him into the water. Though hurling his blade at her wasn't the safest action, it was the only way to keep her from getting enough power to hurt him and him not having to resort to pulling her landing pad in the water as well.

Force please...

 

[Ashin Varanin]

The readied action triggered; the Force-blast ripped out from her hand, but it struck the lightsabre rather than the man. The weapon went far awry, and as he touched down Ashin took a deceptively slow step and met him head-on in a clash of sabres that entirely interrupted his momentum. She planted her feet and drove him back towards the edge and its conspicuous lack of guardrail, hammering with powerful, alternating diagonal cuts. The simplest solution for him would be to sidestep around her or leap over; she had thoughts in mind for both, though 'thoughts' wasn't quite accurate. After a good few years of this, the state of no-mind flow was second nature to her, a matter of clear cause and effect, straight lines and consequences.

She stamped her armored foot as she tried to drive him back, and a shockwave rippled through the metal. The surface of the landing pad tore and buckled, jolting up through Darron's feet.

 

[Darron Wraith]

Darron's blade went flying away, blade now deactivated as Ashin had pushed it from his reach. Thankfully his distraction had worked as he landed quite safely on the small platform, if it could even be called that. Only a few meters separated the pair, and the Jedi Master was far from having stable footing. The metal floor was quite wet and the wind whipped his long, thickly built body just for a second. His senses went to try and find his lightsaber hilt and pull it to him but those thoughts where interrupted as he felt both his hands grab Je'gan's hilt and bring it to bear against Ashin's powerful strikes. He had absolutely zero leverage in the situation and the both of them knew that. So he did what he had always done since mastering Vaapad, he directed her darkness into himself and channeled all the aggressive energy she was giving him.

As her last strike came in, Darron realized the back of his boots were only standing on air. A few inches of metal was all that was separating him from the water. Their blades hissed and protested against each other. The Jedi Master tried to resist as much as he could, but without any leverage he was merely delaying the inevitable. As the shockwave she released traveled through the landing pad, he knew that his options were grim. He could either try to leap over her and be highly exposed to maiming and death, or fall into the water and potentially drown. I choose option three..

Gravity starting to take it's hold of him and pull him back, the Jedi Master pushed their clashed sabers slightly to the right and he let go of his hilt with his left hand. Fingers of flesh found her armored collar and he pulled her with him. "Don't think you're taking me down so easily."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Her commando experience -- a good few years in the Unknown Regions -- came to the fore as he grabbed her. With the Force as her ally, there had only ever been one acceptable response to a grab.

Return the favor.

As she held the sabre lock, her gauntlet latched onto the collar of his shoulder armor. She dug her armored heels into the warped, torn-up metal of the landing pad and reared back, putting all of her concentration and power into strengthening the line from right foot to hip to left shoulder to arm. Her back uncoiled, her arm came up, and she spun in place. Most throws involved using the enemy's momentum or positioning. The throw Ashin had just performed was more akin to a deadlift, an attempt to pick him up and slam him, feet- and back-first, into the landing pad behind her. She knelt with the spin, aiming to bring his body down flat against the metal surface, her alchemical gauntlet locked on his collar.

 

[Darron Wraith]

He was fully at peace with pulling himself and Ashin into the watery abyss below, but it seemed the Dark-Jedi had other ideas. She had abandoned her two handed grip on her hilt and instead had grabbed his armored collar in response. As she leaned back, the Jedi Master had no time to react as he felt the momentum shift back towards the small area they had been fighting on. His whole body got airborne for a second as she fell back, grip still firm on his collar and Darron still holding hers. The Force accelerated his momentum and his back slammed like a cannon shot into the durasteel floor. The impact was so great that his other lightsaber fell from his hand, and he was fairly certain that he was bleeding from his head in the back now.

So you want to play dirty I see, guess you can't get all of your grandfather's traits.

The world spun for just a moment as Darron released his grip of Ashin's collar, if he didn't react soon she'd be on him with her lightsaber. Think Wraith, remember all of your training you fool!

He rocked his hips up and with the moment rolled backwards to the Dark Jedi Master over the shoulder she was still holding. He pulled hard from his core, and as he rolled over his armored opponent me straddled her with his knees digging deep into the soft spots on the inside of her armored arms. Darron pulled deep into the Force, trying to plant himself over her arms to keep her azure blade far and away from him. Now unarmed the Jedi Master grabbed her throat with his left hand and with his right he brought down a powerful punch with his gloved, prosthetic hand, the Force enhancing the speed and strength of the incoming blow. I'm sorry Je'gan, I never wanted to hurt anyone close to you.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

In an instant she was down and pinned, his knees on her arms, his hand around her throat, his punch rocking her head back against the broken surface of the landing pad. She felt blood trickle down her neck as she strained ineffectually against him -- but that was everyone's first instinct. And in armor this restrictive, she couldn't bring up her ankle to hook around his neck from behind.

She planted her feet and popped her hips up. Though he was sitting more or less on her belly, to minimize the effects of something like that, she created a little space and used that for leverage, spinning right onto her side. She tucked in her left arm to avoid setting herself up for an arm bar, then shot it straight out at his face, a short sharp blow that carried with it enough of a Force push to set her free.

Rolling to her feet, she leaped at once, aiming to tackle him.