Picking Sides and pulling strings

[Corey's OOC]

It had taken him a bit, but Marek was finally started to get confident with his saber. He had built it out of necessity and desire to prove he could do it. Just like any other Starchaser with their own training. His cousins that were working within the realm of Imperial military had traditional Force training, trained by Sith, and even Marek was starting to enter that realm. Between Masters Verd and Van Derveld, Marek was well on his way to learning the secrets they would bestow upon him, Sith or not.

Finding himself in a training room, the Aspirant was ready and waiting. He knew that there was a newcomer to the Confederacy, one that seemed to have known one of his relatives, over in the Fel Imperium. That was strange, just went to show how small of a galaxy this could be, at times. What was this one going to bring to the party? Every new Templar was useful, and one coming from another group? That was saying something. They would be able to bring their own spin on the Templar, changing and improving the group.

Standing in a black body glove, with his new Templar armor over it. He wanted to give this armor a try. With his job as the Foreman, he was having a hard time getting training in. And testing this armor was something he had been wanting to do. The armor, and the lightsaber, the hilt which was hovering in front of him. Marek was working on combining his Telekinesis with his Sensing abilities. He could feel the Empath approach. There was a brightness to this one, wasn’t there?

Hearing the door open, Marek let the lightsaber drop into his hand. “So, the Imperial Knight has decided that in order to learn, it was a smart choice to leave the Imperium?” He eyed the other man who entered the room. Marek was all for having a purpose, but to be forced to serve on man? And their goals? That just was not freedom.

@[member="Voroll"]

 

[Voroll]

When Voroll walked in, adorned in new amour – that oddly felt easier to work in and more flexible than the Stormtrooper armour he had abandoned on Bastion – his eyes instantly travelled to the lightsaber that fell into the hand of the man he knew as Marek. He knew little of him, ignoring the fact that he had never spoke to him until now.

Eyes narrowed and a small, slight, smirk encroached across his previously-plain face. His words, filled with a mixture of emotions that were instantly perceivable upon entry, were laced with confidence and anticipation; he was excited and hopeful.
“And it just so happens that I haven’t found that place yet.” He too, was excited. Voroll enjoyed mirroring the more energetic emotions. It allowed him the focus he needed to understand those he mirrored from, and in this case, an opponent? The signals indicated that Marek indeed wished for a fight, whether it a spar or some kind of Confederate initiation was unclear.

A lightsaber hilt, which had not been individualised, hung from Voroll’s new belt. It looked just like a metal pole, although with slight grooves for a better grip. There had been no creativity, nothing that symbolised the empath in this hilt. Maybe the colour of the blade would change that? A pistol on the other side, holstered, also became apparent to Marek. Voroll was unsure how much these Confederates knew of him and his newly-preferred style of fighting, but he needed the practice.

@[member="Marek Starchaser"]

 

[Corey's OOC]

Marek hadn’t dealt with the Fel Knights much. They were around during the taking of the Sith, but at that point, Marek was still putting pieces of his life together. And that meant, of all things, playing with bugs. Sure, he’d never refer to the Xi Char that way to their face, but they were bugs. The Starchaser did keep to himself mostly, aside from opening to a select few as of late. But that wasn’t anything against any one person, just that he was a traveler.

This one, who had left the Fel for the Confederate space seemed like he was going to be a good part of the Templar. At least a good partner. Marek himself wasn’t involved in the Templar all that much longer. He was in no place to toss anyone through some form of initiation. The only thing Marek did worry about was making sure that the newcomer knew what they were fighting for. They were defenders, the galaxy, their space. This was their home.

“So, they teach you how to use your blade over in the Imperium?” Marek wasn’t all that confident with his, more of a gunslinger, than a bladesman. Still, he was learning from Holocrons.

@[member="Voroll"]

 

[Voroll]

Voroll knew the answer to the question Marek had posed: ‘they should have.’ In truth he had not seen a single training session or class showing him how to use or wield the vibrosword he used to own, nor any instructing him in the use of the iconicly-Fel forms of lightsaber combat; Praetoria Vonil or Praetoria Ishu. He knew the very basic of their combat style: they were based around group combat, ignoring the individual in favour for group tactics to overcome a foe. They were not forms that could be self-taught.
It occurred to Voroll that, maybe the Imperial Knights weren’t as close as they could have been. Sure, their Grand Admiral had started some group training, but maybe it was a bit too late.

In fact he did not reply to @[member="Marek Starchaser"]’s question. A tactic he had read about in numerous holotexts and datastreams; if others do not know your weaknesses, they cannot anticipate your moves and beat you. He was not a foe, granted, but a nagging feeling deep down made it seem like they soon may be – if only for a few hours.
“Nothing that can’t be improved upon.” He finally said after a few seconds of pause between the pair. By this time Voroll had walked towards the centre of the training room they both appeared in. He did not know if he had just betrayed his own logic by giving this, Confederate, Starchaser something to use against him, or pulled the elaborate ploy that may help him in the long run. “I suppose you know how to handle a ‘saber more than I do, though?”

 

[Corey's OOC]

Marek was ready for this. He wanted to see what Voroll was made of. Nodding to the other, he smirked. Really, he could start to feel the flow of what everyone around him was thinking. This was how the Force worked, wasn’t it? That he could start to feel everything getting stronger? He could start to understand it more?

That was what he was hoping. He grinned as he nodded to @[member="Voroll"]. This was going to definitely be interesting. The man wasn’t of many words, something Marek could approve of. “Myself, I’m more at home with a blaster. But I’m willing to see what we can learn from one another.” He activated his orange blade.

“Are you?”

 

[Voroll]

He studied Marek for a second. It was then when Voroll felt that his opponent getting optimistic and hopeful. He wondered why, but, could never be sure of anything when it came to the Force. Sometimes it gave him good clues and abilities that he had never even known possible, while other times it robbed him of senses and those abilities. It was truly devious.

“I’d rather see a good old sword fight than a shootout.” Of course that was partly true. Voroll would rather be in that shootout himself, too far away to pick up any emotional turmoil caused by shooting and killing a foe. Of course it may come to that. The killing he wished against, but the possibilities were there, regardless.

Then came the orange flash as Marek’s lightsaber ignited. Within the same instant the plain lightsaber hilt was pulled from Voroll’s belt. He spun around and at his new adversary – despite feeling no ill towards him – so that he came quickly. When he reached the other side the lightsaber ignited, the white, almost clear, blade shooting out in a swipe at the mid-section of the Starchaser.

@[member="Marek Starchaser"]

 

[Corey's OOC]

He could feel the Empath’s stare and the feelings associated with it. Marek wasn’t so sure what was going on, because, he was pretty excited to get to work on some sword play. Still, he knew that it was tricky to shoot Jedi dead, and that it needed the fine hand of a saber. He did build his for a reason. Maybe next time he would see what he could do about learning the art of the discblade, and creating one of those. That made a lot of sense for him.

Marek nodded. “Yeah, sometimes a sword fight is what we all need. I’m just handier with a blaster. Still…” He waved the orange blade around. “I supposed I created this for a reason.” He nodded, looking to his companion. The reason was for the defense of his and his own. Not for him to go about hacking away at people. Hopefully. It did depend on Ket, after all.

Feeling the slash come in, Marek took a step back, twisting his blade in his right hand, to his left until he pointed it down at the floor, intercepting @[member="Voroll"] ‘s blade. A step and then two backwards, Marek eyed the other. Breaking the contact of the blade, Marek took another step back before making a diagonal slash down at Voroll’s left shoulder. This was a duel among comrades, he wasn't going to take any killing blows, and that meant the other needed to react fast.

 

[Voroll]

The deflection of Voroll's, clearly Imperial Knight-inspired, lightsaber slowed him almost completely to a stop. Before that he had flung himself through the air at speeds he did not even know could be mustered until it happened. Perhaps he was more excited about this spar than he first realised.
The word comrade was not mentioned by Marek, nor had Voroll's thoughts suggested it; but with the sudden exhilaration and enjoyment he now found - even so early as the first contact between blades - thinking of the opponent, the adversary and the foe as a comrade and companion would perhaps lead to a better, more fulfilling fight.

He flashed a smile between the movement of Marek's orange lightsaber pushing away the white blade (that then flashed back into its hilt) and the slash towards the Aspirant's shoulder, which faltered slightly as the Empath altered the angle of his body so that his right side faced the slasher. It returned when he hopped backwards, out of range of a strike that required no movement of Marek's feet.

@[member="Marek Starchaser"]

 

[Corey's OOC]

See? Now that was something Marek knew about with the Force, but his skillset wasn’t allowing him to do quite yet. As a Starchaser Force user, he was known for his telekinesis, and tutaminis. That was the one he was working on studying. Sure, maybe his family wasn’t the strongest in the Force, but with the latter ability, they could work some spectacular feats with the Force. Once they learned them, that was. Maybe Marek wasn’t going to be as fast as others right out of the gate, but he would get there as the fight went on.

As his body adapted, and the Force fueled him more.

But there was the team aspect to consider. @[member="Voroll"] was part of the Templar, the ones that he swore to protect. Learning and teaching him in the way of the Force was going to be good, not just for Marek, or Voroll, but for the Templar. The Starchaser knew he wasn’t that strong with a blade, but being here, and testing himself? That was important.

Feeling his slash hit air, Marek eyed his opponent. That was a good move. Adaptation and thinking out of the box. Smart. He’d have to remember to do that. Sure, Marek wasn’t going to some champion with the Force, but he’d know enough to slash at anything that wasn’t waving a lightsaber at him. Bringing his saber up to a vertical hold in front of himself, he reached out to Voroll, to see if he could gain a sense of what the Empath was doing.

 

[Voroll]

After the hop he had the feeling that Marek would have slashed horizontally, so that the orange blade would swipe towards Voroll’s chest. But that was not the case, instead he pulled it back into a ‘ready stance’ of sorts – he learned that from the form Shii-Cho. The only complaint he had about such forms were they were thousands of years old, and used extensively by the Jedi Order. None in this region of space were Jedi, they were Templars of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Protectors of such space and defenders of the peace that existed within its borders.
Surely someone, someone in the galaxy, who was not a Jedi, had come up with a form of lightsaber combat to rival that of the Seven seemingly everyone had learnt.

In the heat of the moment (that moment being hopping out of the way of an intensely hot beam of concentrated light, capable of dismemberment within a split second) Voroll did not know how Marek was feeling. If he was happy, angry, confused or pre-occupied. But that knowledge came back to the Empath when this ready stance was used.
His head tilted a little as he stepped away from @[member="Marek Starchaser"]. He began to circle him – like he had seen in an old holorecording of a lightsaber fight between a Jedi of old and a red and black-skinned Zabrak. Voroll could feel nothing from his companion. No type of feelings, nothing that could denote his future movements. What was he doing?

In that confusion, suddenly he started to think that Marek was confused, despite showing no physical sign of this. What did not occur to the 21 year old Empath was that the man who appeared to be equally as confused was reaching out, possibly through the Force, to try and determine his thoughts and moves. It seemed to be a circle of telepathy and near-telepathy.
Until, of course, Voroll’s lightsaber ignited (a term he liked to use to describe the activation of a lightsaber) and he rushed towards Marek. The Empath’s body fell low to the floor, skidding along it near the Knight’s feet, so that Voroll’s lightsaber could point right up and, if not stopped, cut right through an arm, or something fleshy.

 

[Corey's OOC]

There wasn’t much Marek was doing to block any sort of feelings from the other Templar. He just was. Marek wasn’t the proficient Force user his elder cousin was. Coren Starchaser, the one who was in charge of a wing known as Warbird and part of a vigilante Star Destroyer around the galaxy, had many more skills with the Force. That whole like of Starchaser was a bit more proficient than his own. Not that he was jealous, Marek knew what he was going to be working towards, and how to do it.

He was going to survive. And win.

He was going to be mixing what the Starchaser line was capable of easily with what he learned around the galaxy, from the Zeison Sha, and abroad. Mixing that with Master Van Derveld’s teachings, he was going to learn a lot. The Force, and how he was going to use it, was all up to him. He would make it work.

Watching @[member="Voroll"], and holding his saber at the ready, not perfectly straight, but tilted to his own left side, in a relaxed, yet easy to snap to ready, wrist stance. Feeling the Empath run and slide, he was reacting. Reflex being one of those skills that Marek was decent at. All but stumbling back, pushed by the Force, Marek made a backhanded swing with his right hand to guide the silver-white blade away from his body.

“Now that’s somethin’ new.”

@[member="Voroll"]

 

[Voroll]

With the lightsaber so easily deflected Voroll tried to move his body around so that instead of sliding he rolled – in an attempt to leap to his feet and attack again. His body rolled, just as he wanted, but it bounced and rolled and bounced again until he stopped. So much for a grand spin and slash. Luckily the lightsaber, that was still active, had not hit the armour or body of the empath but had scorched the floor in lines separated by a body-width each.

When he finally pushed himself from the floor, after cursing in what sounded like an alien tongue, he looked over at @[member="Marek Starchaser"].
“Good thing you didn’t let that hit you. I doubt I could’ve stopped it if you didn’t manage to.” He laughed, walking to close the gap between them. When he finally stopped his body turned to the side, but his head and lightsaber arm kept facing their mark. It looked to be a typical Makashi stance, despite Voroll’s lack of knowledge of this form of combat.

His lightsaber swung to the left – from Voroll’s point of view – and slightly diagonally to try and make contact with Marek’s right leg. The bright white light swished again before getting too close, back close to its owner and then down towards Starchaser’s left leg. It may not have been a good distraction, but it was the first one used against another lightsaber-wielder.

 

[Corey's OOC]

Marek would admit to anyone that half of his duels were going to be won on luck alone. The fact that @[member="Voroll"] slid in was the only reason he managed to deflect the blade. It seemed that having such a powerful weapon in the hands of a novice was almost a comical idea. But he built it, it was his, same went for the saber his comrade had.

“I’m good enough to react. Reflex is one thing I can do.” Marek nodded. Stepping to his left, right foot crossing in front of his left. He kept his blade in front of him in a two handed grip. His body was fully facing his opponent, his eyes watching the other’s stance and arms. Waiting for movement.

Marek could be patient. That he did know about himself.

When the slash came. Marek was moving in to react. His orange blade snapped to the right, and not seeing the feint, he backpedaled his left leg. “Getting close there, Templar.” No need to call him Knight or Imperial, as he was in the CIS now. And that measured highly with Marek. Watching the newcomer, he followed in with his left leg, stepping it forward, past where it was formerly planted, his own blade coming in from his left shoulder, in a diagonal down cut.

 

[Voroll]

Marek stepping back was something Voroll had not counted on, he thought that the Knight opposite would, again, deflect the blade into the air, or something fancier with lots of swishing and slashing. He stood there for that second in between the steps and slash, hoping that he had not just pierced a leg with his lightsaber. His heart almost stopped and his breath was held, until the move into the diagonal-down offensive. The breath was released and heart seemed to start again, pushing him closer to the Ser than he had previously been.

He stepped forward and, swapping the hand his white lightsaber was held in – from right to left – he held it up to the orange beam of Marek’s. He did not push against it, but slowed its movement with his own, albeit inferior, physical strength. With his now-free right hand, however, he lifted it up to grip the right wrist of his comrade, spun himself around so that Marek’s arm was now under the armpit of the empath, leading to the incapacitation (in effective use) of the lightsaber – that could only be moved if aimed down to the floor – and arm.
Voroll smiled, rather broadly, clearly proud of himself.
“I saw that from an old HoloVid somewhere, I’m actually surprised it worked.” He laughed, tone delighted and heart pumping due to the closeness of the two blades to his own body.

@[member="Marek Starchaser"]

 

[Corey's OOC]

Marek was so not a bladesman, he was doing it on his own, sure, but he really just wanted to practice. There wasn’t much he could do with this saber, and avoiding the target was more than he could hope for. Dodging and deflecting, really. He wasn’t all that good at sensing feelings, be he could feel the thoughts rolling off @[member="Voroll"] . Marek was not used to this, but he was starting to get a feel for his opponent. It would be something else when they were working side by side. Of course, by then, Marek would be shooting things, rather than slashing.

The next move was not something Marek even felt coming. It was nice, that he could be taken by surprise. Served as a reminder that he wasn’t infalliable. The movement of his comrade to grabbing his wrist and trapping his arm, caused the Corellian to stutter step. Knowing he couldn’t get his saber arm moving, the Corellian needed to act. He could have used the Force to shove Voroll, but this was a duel for the sabers, he wasn’t going to bring his Force powers into this. "When you don't think, and just act is when it all comes together."

Sweeping his right foot under Voroll’s legs, pulling them to the left, and pushing forward with his right shoulder, Marek extinguished his blade. His goal was to overbalance his comrade and get himself free.

 

[Voroll]

Voroll knew that he could not hold @[member="Marek Starchaser"] like this forever, not even for five minutes. But just as easily as he performed the technique, he forgot how to follow it up. If he could use his elbow to take the wind out of the Corellian’s lungs, or even to break the arm altogether with a jolting, awkward twist. Of course he would not act upon the latter thought, since it would be far too brutal for a spar.

Instead, his opponent pre-emptively stopped what could have easily been a long, awkward silence with no action. Good, keep it moving. Keep flowing. Feet brushed under Voroll’s and pushed forwards from behind – a shoulder barge – forcing the physically smaller human towards the floor diagonally. He span mid-air, trying to grab Marek’s right hand, but missed and fell onto his back.

Before anything was said, other than the “ooft” when he hit the floor, Voroll sprung from the floor and back at Marek. Lightsaber wildly swinging from left to right and then from right to left, emulating good old-fashioned duels. His smile continued to be plastered across his face.

 

[Corey's OOC]

Breaking an arm wouldn’t be good for Marek at this point. Sure, for his opponent, it would work out, but here they weren’t trying to do anything of the sort, they just were sparring, not going for blood. Hopefully. At least Marek wasn’t, he was always more interested in working through things with a gun, right now, it was practice, and exercise. Sort of. He was putting trust in his partner that the other was on the same page.

He preferred to avoid awkward situations, and for whatever reason, with it being a spar, or what not, he was avoiding this situation all together. It didn’t make him feel like he was needing to be worried, so he was going to move. And keep moving. The worlds all turned and there was a dance to it all, being still for too long, avoiding the ebbs and flows, just felt weird.

With @[member="Voroll"] coming back at him, Marek wanted to use the Force, but he was doing his best to not reach out to any active powers. He could push the other back against the wall, but he was avoiding such an action. Eyeing the other, he made to block the swings with his lightsaber, all the while taking steps backwards. Clearly this was going to need to come to an end soon.

 

[Voroll]

Throughout these manoeuvers and techniques that were clumsily applied, Voroll’s breath diminished. He was not used to fighting against another lightsaber-wielding opponent, but knew that someday that may change. Breathing seemed to be irregular; inhaling whenever he could and exhaling even less. To the point where his face started to go red and small veins began to show above his temples.
Obviously Voroll had not seen a problem with the erratic breathing, otherwise there would have been an attempt to change it.

While his swings were met with parries and deflections, he could not pick up how Marek was feeling, that he wanted to use the Force or that he felt this spar should be coming to its close. Apparently the Empath’s mind was too focused on the spar to notice the innate ability that had cursed him for so long.
When the final block struck, the white-orange flashing of two lightsabers in a second of a lock mesmerised the Esselian. The sparks and colours, albeit limited, were beautiful to behold and to be so close to. If they were no danger to his fingers then he would have liked to reach out and to touch it. It was in this moment that the white blade was struck far from the Corellian and out from the hand of Voroll. It disignited as the hilt bounced and rolled across the floor.

If this were a real fight, now would have been an opportune moment for @[member="Marek Starchaser"] to either press on with an attack while Voroll was left defenceless. Luckily, this was not a real fight.
“It seems you win.” He said slowly, heavy panting now audible. Sweat seemed to drip from Voroll’s face and clung to the bodyglove all over, under his armour. A good hour in a refresher may get rid of the stick, but a new bodyglove altogether would probably be better.

He gave his opponent a bow – that seemed to be customary between certain duellists, although he could not recall names – before retrieving his hilt.

 

[Corey's OOC]

It was always going to change, with the Republic looming, and Marek not really trusting of the Jedi, he felt they needed to be ready. Maybe not from the Jedi, but if the Republic was going to take territory of the galaxy, and should the Sith show their face against the galaxy again, as not all Sith were evil, his Master included on that list, someone needed to be ready. Sure, the Jedi and the Sith were like vipers and mongoose, but they were known for their inactivity at times, especially on other threats.

That left the Templar to be ready. And while Marek knew his skills were with a blaster, he needed to be ready for anything that came at him with a blade or without. He was so out of shape for this form of combat, not that a blaster was easier, but he was ready for it, he knew how to fight with them, and how to handle everything.

Knocking the other‘s blade had been a surprise. The Corellian was not ready, nor expecting that. Looking at the blade as it fell to the ground, and disengaged, he held his blade, facing straight up, in both hands, arms cocked, holding the hilt up near his right shoulder. He could strike, and take @[member="Voroll"] down right now. But he wasn’t going to. Marek knew better than that, this was a controlled environment.

Working to catch his own breath, and watching Voroll pick up his hilt, Marek nodded. “I’ll assure you that victory was entirely luck.” He couldn’t help but laugh, more at himself, than anything else. "If you want another spar, I'm always game?"

Now, later.