Start It Up (Aten Ramses vs Asaraa Vaashe)

[Warchief Waddles]

Long ago Aten Ramses had only dreamed of being a Jedi, he'd been nothing but a Padawan when the Galactic Alliance fell. Even years later he could remember the carnage, the destruction that came at the hands of the Sith on Coruscant. The lives lost, the few he'd managed to save. Even then he'd continued on seeing the fall of more Jedi in the face of darkness. Yet all it takes is a candle to hold the darkness at Bay. Having fought numerous sith, Aten had thought of himself as that light. But one Jedi alone couldn't fight all the Sith so despite his hesitance the man would place his trust in the Silver Jedi this time. Though of course not without testing them first, or at least one of the more distinguished members of the Order.

Standing at the center of the training amphitheater in Silver Rest, Aten looked around and up to the viewports that sat above wondering just how many others were going to view the duel that would soon take place. What were the thoughts of the eyes hiding behind the tinted transparisteel? Was he an anomaly? Or did some despise him for not joining with their number sooner? As a Padawan, the Morellian was skin to the Silver Jedi in many ways preferring to not battle others, yet was thrust into them. that young man was gone, replaced by a hardened veteran. He even remembered hearing about the one he'd challenged back when Commenor fell. Asaraa, hopefully she wouldn't disappoint. On that day he'd been dealing with the Sith Lord, Mythos. The day that his exile had officially begun when he'd failed to stop the man's betrayal. There were few in the galaxy that Aten held a deep-seated hatred for. Mythos was one of those unfortunate enough to be counted in that number.

Dressed in his combat clothes the Jedi began to strip in the full view of everyone while awaiting his opponent. The golden jacket tossed aside where it hit the ground with a solid thump kicking up dust. Following it was the black shirt that did the same revealing the muscular, and heavily scarred torso of the Morellian. Some from Sith, others from bounty hunters, most from his training with the Morgukai. Where an organic right arm and shoulder used to be there was now a cybernetic that went down to the gauntlet covered fists. In a swift motion, the Jedi jumped his legs coming up, his pants falling to the ground. When his legs straightened once more Aten stood there in just a pair of training shorts. The cool air washed over his body, and he stood there unfazed.

In more ways than one, this was a statement. He was showing himself as not fearing pain, as well as it being an open challenge for the Asaraa to wound him while he was unarmored. The gauntlets being there to make the engagement fair for Aten since he so rarely used his saber that now lay beneath the pile of clothes. From it, the Jedi could still feel the presence of the weapon he named Kol after his first master. The force flowed openly between him and the Crystal within the hilt soothing energy radiating from it and into the Morellian.

Here the Jedi who once hated to fight stood, anticipation filling his very being. Romi Jade and the Morgukai had turned him into a lover of battle. A darkness that the Morellian fought every day, but also harnessed to his own benefit. "Let her in, I couldn't be more ready" Aten called up to the viewports to be answered by a hiss and the door on the other side of the chamber.

[member="Asaraa Vaashe"]

 

[Asaraa Vaashe]

The training grounds of hte Silver Rest were always open, the sun drenched halls there for any Jedi, or any group of Jedi to hone their skills in combat agaisnt one another, against the trainers who prowled these halls or any assortment of droids you could imagine. Asaraa had heard many claim that combat should never be a Jedi's first resort, should in fact only be the last choice if they had no otehr options, if all other paths had been exhausted. It was a fine sentiment and the young Jedi had nothing but respect for those who held to it...it was just hte galaxy didn't seem to agree with it.

More and more, it felt like every mission she deplloyed on, the young Jedi had found herself fighting for her life, or hte life of others. She'd started spending more time here in the training halls than she did in the actual library studying the negotiation and other skills a Jedi was supposed to bring to bear on a situation. She knew it had left her training...skewed, but in a galaxy that seemed increasingly to be trying to kill her and her friends that was a sacrifice that she was actually ok with. If it made her a bad Jedi, Asaraa would gladly wear that monker if it meant that no more of her friends needed to die, to suffer, she'd already seen far too many walk down that road to care about what others might call her.

While it might not be unusual to find the young Jedi in the training grounds, what was perhaps a little more unusual was why she was here. Sure, training against an opponent was a great way to improve your skills, but to be called out be a complete stranger was...unusual to say the least. She almost hadn't come, the unusual nature of the request triggering alarm bells in the girl's head. But in the end, this Aten was calling her out to a fight in the middle of the temple, so he couldn't actually be evil or one of hte masters would surely have cottoned onto the fact that he was there and dealt with him already...right?

Maybe she was putting too much trust in the masters of the Jedi, she'd seen herself that they weren't infalliable, that they weren't able to predict everything, that they could stumble and fall like everyone else. But, you had to believe in someone right, and so why not them, your friends and allies. The pink-haired Jedi reached out to rest a hand on the wall, just standing there as she enjoyed the feeling of the warm sun painting her skin. The comfortable feeling made it easier for her to cast her mind out through the force, questing out for her opponent. It was easy to follow the strands of hte force to the man, to feel the swirl of light and dark that surrounded him. It would be rude to look in more detail, but...well she couldn't help but find herself a little curious about this Jedi who seemed to balance on such an exquisite edge.

Still, the actual sight of the the half naked man waiting for her was, well not exactly what she'd expected as the doors hissed open. Asaraa could feel a blush rising to her cheeks as her crystal blue eyes cut away to the side for a moment as she raised one hand to gesture at him.

"Umm...while I appreciate the sight and all...are you sure you don't wanna put some more clothes on right now? I mean....you might catch your death of a cold."

Her eyes flicked back for a moment.

"You are [member="Aten Ramses"] right?"

 

[Warchief Waddles]

Seeing the young pink-haired girl’s reaction to his body caused Aten to chuckle slightly. He oftentimes forgot the company he kept among some of the Jedi. They weren’t like the Morgukai. The Jedi would’ve never stripped someone down and forced them to train in the winter. They wouldn’t have made others within the order beat a student to within an inch of death to teach them how to endure pain. They wouldn’t force the students to kill one another to continue their training. The year Aten spent upon the Morgukai had changed him both physically and mentally.

“Worry not, the force provides all the warmth I need.” Eyeing Asaraa with an evaluating glance, head tilting slightly Aten had always imagined a different figure. He’d expected someone taller, a more masculine appearing woman. Yet he shouldn’t have been surprised, even his own one-time master Romi Jade was lithe and one of the finest Jedi combatants in the galaxy.

“But to answer your question, yes I am Aten Ramses. Do forgive me for the odd request, I was once a Silver Jedi myself, though I can’t remember if the main location was on Kashyyyk back when I first started learning.” Gazing off past Asaraa and to a time long ago, Aten searched his mind for answers unable to dredge any up, but it was gone. Very little remained of the Jedi’s memory from his short stint with the Silver Jedi.

“I came here to test you Master Vaashe. I’ve spent my exile hunting the Sith alone. Fighting them by my lonesome, yet that hasn’t been enough. It never will be, and the Silver’s are one of the last bastions of light. Before I throw my lot in with you once more, I want to know that you’re dedicated. That the Jedi now possess the strength for me to be able to fight alongside.”

Giving the woman time to let it sink in, Aten’s body shifted into a fighting stance. Rising to begin bouncing on the balls of his feet, his left foot forward and pointing at Asaraa, his right foot back and pointed off slightly to the side. Aten’s left, organic arm hung down protecting the left side of his body that he offered to the Jedi. Swaying with the bounce of his body his left arm bent at the elbow. “Alas, I didn’t come here to spill my life story into your lap Master Vaashe. Do give me everything you have. No setting the lightsaber to stun, when I say everything I mean it.”


[member="Asaraa Vaashe"]

 

[Asaraa Vaashe]

"Not Master, not yet, maybe one day."

Asaraa shook her head, trying to drag her attention back into focus blue eyes settling on his as she sought calm, that spot in teh centre of her mind where she could shed all distraction, focus on the fight coming up ahead. If the man wanted her to go all out then she wasn't going to hold anything back. The force around her rippled, as if in time with her breathing before stilling, the icy calm of a hunter seeking their prey, or a duelist preparing to fight.

"Asaraa, please just call me Asaraa. It sounds like you knew the Jedi before I arrived, before they moved from Voss. We've been here for some time now, and the Order you rememebr might not be the Order that exists today."

Even in her tenure here she'd seen the Order change, to start looking outward at the galaxy at the threats to peace that existed and abounded, no longer inward focused, no longer just content to protect their worlds the Jedi had reached out, struck at the Mandalorians who had brought so much death to the galaxy. Protecting one mslall area wasn't enough, they had a duty to protect all life they could. Something it sounded like Aten had been doing all this time.

Pale hands plucked at her jacket, discarding it to a corner as two lightsabers slipped from their holsters, just orbitting her until she pluck them out of the air, resting the familiiar curver hilts in her hands. Purple and brinze blades hummed to life as the Jedi twirled the blades through a warm-up, not pushing herself, not yet but playing out one of the simplest training sequences she had learnt as a youngling. It didn't pay to give anything away...but her every instinct was warning her that Aten wasn't a threat to be taken lightly, wasn't an opponent she could just drop into fight if she wanted any chance of winning or even proving to him the Silver Jedi had hte strength he was looking for.

Taking up a position, leaning forward on the balls of her toes the Jedi brought her blades up to a guard positionbody turned to present Aten her side as she nodded at him.

"Ready when you are."

[member="Aten Ramses"]

 

[Warchief Waddles]

Asaraa’s words rang true, the Silver Order that Aten had once known was no more. There had been many changes, some necessary, others that the Jedi couldn’t agree with nor probably ever would. Yet, in the face of the looming threat that was the Sith Empire, it was better to make some concessions. Even if it meant the Jedi allying with the Confederacy of Independent Systems. “You are correct Asaraa, with time everything passes. Civilizations crumble to dust and with that comes change, even to the Jedi.”

The final words of the fight had been spoken, tension building up in the air as the two Jedi faced each other. Pre-initiative was a thing for many martial artists, and even for Jedi who delved deeply into saber combat. Where you analyzed your opponent’s form and try to strategize around what they could possibly do. Many Jedi, however, relied on the force to guide their movements and swordplay. For Aten, it was a mixture of both, and in an instant, he had moved.

Crossing the distance between them the Knight wasn’t put off by any potential skills or abilities Asaraa held, that would only lead to doubting himself. For Aten that simply wasn’t an option. Coming in the Jedi’s left arm came up and around in a left hook aimed for Asaraa’s face. At least that’s how it seemed. As his left foot shifted forward into the usual position for striking, it moved further to clip into Asaraa’s right ankle and yank back taking away the woman’s footing.

Spinning on the heel of his left foot Aten’s right leg tucked in till reaching the apex of the maneuver and unleashed in a straight kick for the pink-haired woman’s stomach. Misdirection at its finest. What had been a form meant mainly for upper-body striking transformed into one that utilized kicks. Formed, yet formless.

Asaraa Vaashe

 

[Asaraa Vaashe]

He was fast. Asaraa had expected the man to be fast, to be willing to face up against an opponent wielding blade with your bare hands you were either foolish or so sure of yourself. And Aten really didn't come across as an idiot so the girl figured he had to be sure of his abilities. Which didn't bode well for her in this fight. Still, she was no slouch in the combat department and it had been such a long time since she'd actually faced an opponent who was capable of pushing her, providing a challenge. Recently it seemed she'd been fighting opponents who were either just trying to slow her down or to try to slow down a much greater threat. This though, the girl bared her teeth, now this would be fun.

At least that's what she had hoped for, the incoming punch had been telegraphed, she'd been watching the man's hands and was ready for that, swaying backwards away from the fist. What she hadn't expected was the foot that snaked around hers, tugging out her legs, sending her stumbling. It wasn't something she'd expected, experienced, that smooth transition from one move to another, a fluid combo. A half-step forward was all it took for Asaraa to realise just how unsteady she'd become, how precarious her footing was, and if there was one thing she knew it was bad footing in a fight could kill you.

There really wasn't much choice for it, letting the unsteadiness would just leave her vulnerable. The pink-haired Jedi swayed to the side, letting her body topple to the ground, driving the air out of her lungs. The sound of a foot slicing through the air above her head was enough to prove to her that it had been a wise decision to let herself drop, a small touch of the force launching her into the air. Asaraa could feel her hair swinging out like a cloak behind her as she span in the air, sabers igniting as she slashed at Aten's leg before landing catlike on the ground.

Warchief Waddles