Where It All Began

[Xevek Nekonis]

A growl rang out as Xavka felt Ophidia's own current of Lightning fight against his own within the whip, the surges of Force generated electricity battling within the weapon. Slowly, but with ever increasing speed, he could sense his own efforts being fought back by Ophidia's own, his Lightning being beat back away from her neck while her's crept closer. Annoyingly, albeit predictably, his not so covert attack of Lightning had been blocked by Ophidia by her usage of her Lightsaber. Meanwhile his sword was still trapped, removed from his grasp and possession.

Xavka's mind whirled as he tried to figure out what to do next. Despite his best efforts to try and fight back against the flow of the fight that Ophidia had set, he had failed and was once again lost within the tempo that she desired. He would have to do something that was not expected for him to gain the upper hand. The only problem he faced was that he was unable to come up with what he should do. His thinking time was cut short as he felt Ophidia pull on the whip while their Lighting continued to fight within it. Growling at the back of his throat at the fact that he would have to follow his half formed thought.

Releasing his grasp on the whip, Xavka pushed the Force forwards with a subdued yell, directing it to slam into his Master in a massive wave. Beneath the feelings of anger, rage and frustration that rolled within the wave, was a single spot of Force that felt of deception, desperation and corruption. This was a new technique that Xavka had been experimenting with.

Normally, Force Slow required for the user to blanket the target in the corruption, to cause it to sink into the target's Force presence body. From there, the longer it was held and the more effort directed into it, the more profound and obvious the slowed reactions and thoughts of the target. His new technique was to compress the blast of Force Slow into a small seed of it. The seed would sink into the target's presence, corrupting it, and, from there, the target's body. The results would be less than what could be achieved by the commonly accepted method, but it was more deceptive and the effects would be enough to gain an advantage.

As the seed would begin to corrupt Ophidia, Xavka lunged forwards towards her, a new Emeici now clasped in his hand as he swiped the barbed tip at his Master's throat. He was intent on not allowing her time to purge herself of the Slow corruption he had cause. At the same moment, he grasp his sword within his telekinetic hold and pulled it back, directing it to land behind him. He had no idea if the gambit would work, it being a last minuet thought, although he would be happy to have his main weapon back in his possession.


[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

She could see her apprentice trying to work out how to get out of this pickle. Currently, she was simply overpowering him with a superior knowledge of the dark side of the Force. Her lightning climbed up the chain-whip, pushing back the Iridonian's lightning. He had grown better, surely, but not good enough. She kept pulling the chain, and pressing on to cleave through and force him into submission, or to force him to let go of another weapon. Which he did. The pull suddenly threatened to put the Rattataki on her back, but as she had expected it as one of the possible outcomes, she was able to set a foot down behind her and remain balanced.

Her left hand yanked the whip away from her neck as she prepared to charge before her apprentice could enact another plan, but she was a little too slow. All she managed to do was to take a single step forward to her original position and prepare herself for impact against the wall of force-energy that came rushing for her. As it struck, she braced her arms against her forehead and pulled her knees up, effectively turning herself into a small spiked ball. The force threw her back, and she noticed something was off. The sensation was familiar, as if she was stuck in tar.

She landed on her feet, but a little less gracefully than usual. The two weapons she wielded swiped out and into a jar'kai position for Makashi practitioners. Xavka obviously did not waste time. Ophidia used Xavka's swordcane to barely deflect the razor-blade coming for her throat. While she was slower than usual, she was not completely defenceless. Yet, the manoeuvre cost her the sword as it was yanked out of her hand.So she brought her lightsabre around as quickly as she could to push Xavka back for a moment and bolster herself against the effect.

[member="Xavka Duquo"]

 

[Xevek Nekonis]

Xavka grunted as the Emeici was caught along the edge of his sword, the metal bar that formed the main body of the weapon sliding down the edge of the blade with a screech. However, the resistance was soon removed as his sword was pulled from his Master's hand and flew behind him. Movement in his lower peripheral vision drew his attention to the red blade of Ophidia's lightsaber as it was swung towards his side.

It was only because he was looking for it that Xavka realised that his Master's swing was slower than every other strike he had received from her. A smirk grew on his lips as he realised that the seed of Force Slow had done its job, corrupting the speed at which signals were running through the Rattataki's nervous system, increasing Ophidia's reaction time and slowing her at the same time.

A quick calculation based on instincts ran through Xavka's mind as he quickly tried to figure out if he would be able to intercept the strike of his Emeici. He quickly came to the conclusion that he would not be able to and, instead, continued his charge towards Ophidia, seeking to get as close as he could so that he would be inside her reach so far that she would not be able to bring her weapon around to hit him.

Reaching forwards with now open hand, the Emeici only hanging from his middle finger, Xavka grabbed a fistful of Ophidia's robes as he lunged his head forwards. His intent was to strike at his Master with his Orat, the horns that adorned his forehead and were hidden underneath his hair.

A Zabrak's Orat were deceptively strong. Most assumed they were formed out of just bone and that they could be broken as easily, but they were wrong. While the Orat were made of bone, emerging directly from the skull, they were stronger and more resistant than the already above average sturdy skeleton of Xavka's species. Able to take a heavy and forceful blow to the head without the Orat yielding, chipping or cracking, the horns of a Zabrak were deceptively strong. And, like most of his kind, Xavka kept his Orat sharp and ready to slice into opponents.

While his head lashed forwards, the sword that Xavka still held in a telekinetic grip, surged forwards om where it had hovered just above the ground. Angled upwards, it cut through the air as it headed for impact with the right side of Ophidia's stomach.


[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

One weapon disarmed, one missing its' mark. She could feel herself being slowed down, and immediately set in a countermeasure by funneling the Force into her body to speed herself up. Normally, she would use this ability to gain impossible quickness, but now it would most likely just cancel the slowness, and perhaps give her a little bit of extra 'unf'. However, her apprentice had no intention to let her get the chance.

As his hand came in to grip her robe, her now free left hand moved to clasp Xavka's wrist for a countermeasure. As his head reared and lashed forward, she presented the harder part of her skull to take the hit and draw her lightsabre through the back of the Iridonian. However, the Force screamed danger at her, and in the corner of her eye she saw movement. Was it Xavka's sword? she would not put it past him. They were Assassins, they prized the cleverly underhanded.

So, rather than cutting at Xavka's back, she whipped her lightsabre out to intercept the sword and bat it away. As her countermeasure of speed had not fully kicked in, she suffered a shallow cut from the tip of the blade, but was able to bat it away at the middle, sending the sword spinning to the side. As she did, the head of Xavka impacted wit her forehead. She had been headbutted many times, but this was the first time she had ever felt the sensation of being cut as well as butted. It hurt, her skin cracked and blood seeped out. A grimace of pain carved into her face, but she stood still.

Upon impact, electricity crackled through her. Blood warmed her bare scalp. The Force built up inside her, fuelled by the pain and the humiliation. Then it surged. A pulse of Force energy, laced with primal Force-Lightning caused by self-preservation, burst out from her centre. Her voice roared behind it like thunder. Rocks, formerly solidly anchored in the sand, were torn from their bed and tossed away. Sand flew from her epicentre like a freak sandstorm. This was Ophidia's raw power.

[member="Xavka Duquo"]