Vancil’s armoured boots resounded upon the metal floor of the hexagonal hallway in time with his master’s, their footsteps echoing throughout the now empty halls of the ancient ship. He appraised the intricate engravings on the walls to either side of him through the eye slits in his smooth, black armoured face mask. The purpose of the complex weaving lines ultimately meant nothing to him, but who knows what they could have meant to the Rakatans and their society.
Perhaps these very engravings were the mystical pieces of technology that his master sought.
His gaze drifted back to the slack black hooded cloak ahead of him that was his master, Darth Ominit. The reason for the seemingly impractical Sith clothing item was to instil a sense of dread and fear in whichever poor sod was their opponent, a tactic which both Ominit and Vancil had decided to undertake. This effect was also afforded by the masks which the both of them wore, however Ominit’s was undoubtedly more effective due to the harsh and jagged spikes which jutted forth from his crimson mask.
Darth Ominit, while having only recently discovered, and subsequently boarded the drifting Rakatan ship walked as though he owned the place, acting every bit the stereotypical arrogant Sith. If asked, Vancil would even confirm it as he had first-hand experience with that arrogance. Of course, while someone like a Jedi would chastise Ominit’s behaviour, Vancil saw it for what it was. Unbridled confidence in one's power.
And it was this knowledge that caused Vancil to stop dead the instant Ominit did, neither of them now moving an inch. Ominit was now impossibly still, so still that if he was a shade of grey one could mistake him for a statue. Vancil quickly reached out with the force, searching as far as he could for whatever disturbance had caused his master to act this way. At first, Vancil could feel only the amassed residual dark side energies that had been infused into the very metal of the ship before he felt something very familiar at the edges of his senses.
“Jedi.” Darth Ominit spat.
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Kandria glanced uneasily at her surroundings, the oppressive feeling since she had first boarded the ship only increasing further as she followed Master Coval inwards. It was as though the very metals with which this impossibly long hallway, and even the ship itself of disapproved of their entry, a laughably impossible notion.
“Calm yourself, Kandria.” Her master said serenely, “Do not let yourself be influenced by your fear.”
Kandria almost began to flush in embarrassment at the fact that her master had noticed her emotions so quickly before realising that she had almost made the same mistake again. Eager to get her emotions under control, Kandria busied herself with trivial matters, readjusting her purple hood and the face mask which covered the bottom half of her face. An armoured finger slowly traced the custom engravings she had carved into the grip of her lightsaber, which helped to finally dispel the emotions.
“I apologise, Master.” She said, the Jedi in question having glanced back to gaze at her through the golden mask he always wore, which had been engraved to mimic the face of a handsome male human, “It will not happen again.”
Coval only nodded, “Make sure it does not, especially in a dark place like this.”
Kandria, nodded zealously. Her master was correct in that regard. Neither she, nor he, could afford to be weakened in this place. She continued to trail behind Coval, her gaze constantly vigilant as she scanned behind every inch of every surface they passed. This continued for an amount of time until they finally reached the end of the long corridor, finding three different doors present before them. Coval stood still for but a moment before turning towards the left door, which opened automatically to allow them entry. Clearly, he had sensed that this was the way to their objective, showing his obvious mastery of the Force.
Beyond it laid a massive circular room with a domed roof layered with lights, all of it being made from the same metal as the rest of the ship. This room was almost certainly the large sphere that they had seen from their own starship as they approached. In the centre of the room was a several arrayed chairs, each featuring what looked to be some sort of computer perched in front of them. What grabbed the attention of both Jedi however was not the room or chairs. Rather, it was the black cloaked Sith currently facing them head on.
Both Kandria and Coval hesitated for but a moment before they ignited their blue lightsabers and dropping into a combat stance. The Sith in question simply remained still for a second before a crimson red lightsaber ignited from his gauntleted right hand, the colour matching that of the imposing and memorable spiked crimson mask he wore.
“Darth Ominit.” Coval stated smoothly, the closest thing that could come to a greeting between a Jedi and a Sith, “You’re a long way from home.”
“Jedi Master Coval.” Ominit spat, as though the word Jedi was toxic to him.
The two parties stared each other down, neither moving a muscle. All of a sudden, Kandria could feel herself being flung to the side and away from her master, the suddenness of the movement almost having caused her to crash onto the floor if not for her Jedi training. Her head whipped back to her master only to find that he himself had jumped away from where they were once standing. It was in that place that another black cloaked figure lay kneeling, his own red lightsaber imbedded into the ground that she once stood in.
A quick look upwards revealed a small ledge which both she and her master had missed, likely being where the new Sith had dropped down from. Looking back to Coval, the Jedi Master attempted to move against the new arrival before being quickly intercepted and driven back by a swift swing from Ominit, who began to viciously strike at Coval.
The new Sith also noticed this, glancing at the duel for but a second before he stood up and turned to face her, looking right at her through the barely visible eye slits in his black mask.
“Well, looks like I get you all to myself Jedi. How delightful.” The Sith said in a maddeningly cocky tone, as though he was having the time of his life.
“You won’t be finding this delightful for long Sith.” She shot back as she dropped into her own stance.
Kandria held her blue blade in both hands in front of her, her gaze flicking over the Sith’s own lightsaber form. Or rather, the strange lack of any identifiable one. The Sith, instead of preparing for the coming battle was instead just…standing there, lightsaber hanging limply in his right hand. It almost made her laugh at how open he was. But her Jedi training quickly quelled that thought, as her confidence would be her downfall if she let it control her.
However, she didn’t get the chance to further decipher his form as the Sith burst forward swinging his lightsaber in a downwards motion. Kandria didn’t falter however as she quickly brought up her own blade to meet his. What she didn’t expect though was the sheer force behind the blow, almost pushing her lightsaber into her face. The Sith’s masked face also drew dangerously close to his own saber.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“Boo.”
Next thing she knew, the Sith’s free fist connected with her stomach knocking the wind out of her and causing her to go airborne for a few seconds from the sheer strength of the blow and breaking the saber lock the two of them had been in. The Sith then quickly twisted around into a roundhouse kick that sent her flying further into the room.
Her vision was swimming as she struggled to her feet and back into her lightsaber form, once again facing the approaching Sith. However, instead of feeling a sense of caution or wariness, a smile came onto her face, thankfully hidden by the mask she wore lest the Sith catch on. Because while other Jedi may have balked at the ferocity and strength behind the attacks, she was different. It was what set her apart from the other padawans at the temple.
Her innate ability to analyse and adapt to whomever she fought.
She had analysed.
Now it was time to adapt.
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Vancil slowly approached the now recovering Jedi, doing his best to appear imposing and dreadful as he did so. A quick glance to the side revealed Ominit and Coval still duking it out at speeds and strengths he could not hope to match. His gaze flicked back to the Jedi before him. But he could more than match her.
A grin coming onto his face, he leapt forward thrusting his saber forward towards her lower abdomen. The grin disappeared quickly however, as instead of rushing to defend against his sudden attack thus leaving herself open to him, she instead leapt into the air, thrusting downwards at his exposed form.
He quickly overcame the shock at this sudden manoeuvre however and turned his thrust into a duck and roll, the Jedi’s blue lightsaber only barely missing his head as he did so. Moving with the flow, he quickly got back to his feet, just in time to clash his own lightsaber against a slash attack from the Jedi. Pushing back, they both attempted to strike and parry the other, almost succeeding in wounding the other multiple times.
It wasn’t enough though. His strikes were quick and powerful, however every time he attempted to grab or punch her with his open fist, she was quick to react, seemingly getting quicker every time he attempted it.
Her strikes weren’t as quick or powerful, but that didn’t matter when she negated the power with her skilled parries. Thankfully for Vancil she didn’t seem to be able to attack him as much due to the ferocity of his strikes.
That didn’t mean he was happy of course. Far from it in fact. The advantage he had gained at the beginning was disappearing by the second as she just continued to adapt. Fine then. It was time for him to adapt.
As his next overhead strike neared the Jedi’s saber, which was raised to block this attack, his own blade flickered out. He saw the recognition flash in her eyes at the use of the Trakatan form and she quickly moved her lightsaber closer towards her body in anticipation of the blade’s reactivation.
And, Vancil also saw the oh so satisfying look of surprise as he simply let go of his lightsaber, letting it fall to the ground as his now free right hand curled into a ball. Using the momentum from his overhead attack, his fist collided with the exposed Jedi’s face. He didn’t let up after that however as, with the Jedi now stunned he grabbed her wrist, twisting it and causing her to lose her grip on her own lightsaber which turned off as she did so.
Vancil didn’t get a chance to continue his attack however, as the Jedi recovered and responded quickly. And instead of doing something like try to escape his grip or reorient herself, she instead uppercut him with her free hand, causing Vancil to be disoriented himself and release his grip on the girl’s wrist. The Jedi then pushed her advantage, in quite a literal sense as Vancil felt a powerful force push send him flying and collide with the backs of one of the chairs throughout the centre of the room. Doubly worse was that the chairs were quite clearly bolted to the floor, essentially meaning he had just hit a wall at high speed.
His vision blurred for a second as he lay crumpled on the ground before he got a hold of himself. Like hell he’d let some wannabe Jedi kill him. As his spite grew, he felt his connection to the dark side grow in tandem, rejuvenating him. Using this newfound energy, he lashed out with the force, managing to connect with the Jedi despite the distance between them and sending her sliding back a few metres.
Even though she still managed to remain standing Vancil could still push this new edge. Continuing to use the force he pulled his own lightsaber towards him while flinging the Jedi’s lightsaber to the side, having given up on attempting to daze her. If she kept on countering his attempts with her fast reactions, he would have to simply delay her reactions.
He ignited his lightsaber as soon as it reached his hand and he shot forward in another charge. As expected, the Jedi had still managed to pull her own lightsaber towards her and raise it to block his overhead strike, but it fulfilled its purpose. The delay that came about due to her having to retrieve her lightsaber from a greater distance was almost enough to allow him a clean strike on her.
Not giving her even a moment and forgoing defence almost entirely, Vancil attacked her rabidly, forcing her to continuously back away to have a hope of defending against his encroaching might. This strategy appeared to be working against her, whereas before she could occasionally counterattack or force Vancil to slow down his attacks, now it was taking all this Jedi could to just defend.
An involuntary laugh rose out of him as he continued. Truly, she was his most unique opponent yet. Before this fight it was a simple matter of win or lose whenever he fought a Jedi or even the occasional Sith. If the Jedi was too powerful for his very loose and wild style of combat to work, that was that and there was almost nothing he could do. Or if they were even the smallest bit weaker then him, he could easily strike them down quickly.
But this girl, she was different. She was his equal. Not necessarily in strength or speed, but in a battle, she was his equal. Even now he could tell she was beginning to adapt to his unrelenting barrage. The steps she took back were smaller, her blocks were quicker and he could see her eyes flicking to where he was going to strike before even, Vancil knew.
Vancil knew that his advantage was once again slowly edging away, and so took the time he had to glance over to his master who was still battling the other Jedi whose name he had forgotten already, but with whom Darth Ominit seemed to be fairly acquainted with. To his shock, like Vancil and the female Jedi, the two had ended up degrading to an essential fist fight in the centre of the room. This one seemed to be lasting longer however, and they were currently in the process of smashing each other into the chairs surrounding them.
The male Jedi managed to get a clean right hook on Ominit, knocking the mask off of his face and revealing the sickly pale complexion of his human master, his yellow eyes blazing in fury. Ominit very quickly took back the initiative, grabbing his opponent by the head and smashing it into one of the nearby computers. What he, nor clearly Ominit if the sudden look of surprise on his face was any indication, was for the screen to suddenly flicker to life, characters in a language zooming across it at incomprehensible speeds.
This distraction was enough for the female Jedi to throw a sudden counterattack his way, which nearly caught his torso before he blocked it. Neither of them got the chance to take another action however, as a blinding white light erupted from the damaged computer, enveloping the entire room.
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SEARCHING FOR TARGETS...
ERROR, PILOT COMPARTMENTS DAMAGED.
INITIATING BACKUP TARGET SELECTION...
NEW TARGETS AQUIRED.
ATTEMPTING TO RESOLVE DESTINATION...
DESTINATION LOCKED.
TEMPORAL DRIVE ACTIVATED.