Sorry

Mira watched as her opponent seemed to move, then lost him in the speed of his movement. She quickly scanned the room and, realizing he wasn't to be seen, knew what had happened. She had seen Master Jas use the same skill here at the Sith Temple, and she had seen many Jedi use it on Naboo. Force Stealth, she belived it was called. She knew that there were techniques by which one could see those so cloaked, but even if she had known them she wouldn't have used them. It would have taken too much strength for too little gain.

She heard him move and made a quick lunge, but she missed. She knew he was moving, but she was a bit disoriented. Then she remembered one of the lessons she had received on Dathomir from one of her sisters who had found her after she left the Jedi. When you can't see the rancor, listen for it. It can be subtle, but it always makes a noise.

Mira smiled and calmed her breathing, then used the Force to augment her hearing. This was one area that she was quite good at: using the Force to enhance her senses and other natural abilities. She heard Ithron's footsteps as he circled, but did not betray her knowledge. She heard the torch move slightly, and turned quickly, as if confused. She moved, making him move as well. She smiled inwardly as he attempted to mask his own footsteps; with her hearing enhanced, she could still pick up the slight variation in step. By the Force, she thought, he's louder than a kriffing rancor!

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she whirled to face Ithron. Anything less would have made him suspicious that she knew more than he thought. She took a step forward and he faded again, the room once again becoming empty. She heard his words but discounted them, replying, "Yeah, you're about as subtle as a kryat dragon."

She whirled a few more times, all the while hearing his steps. When he stopped, she turned her back to him. If he was planning what she thought...

Then the torch flew off the wall. As it flew towards her, she leaped forward in a full aerial - a no-hands cartwheel that both spun her out of the way of the torch, allowed her to activate her saber, slicing the torch in two as it passed, and come up facing her opponent. As she landed, she twisted the hilt of her saber, once again swapping the emerald for the Hurrikan gem and lengthening her blade to three meters. If Ithron didn't move quickly, it would skewer him through the stomach. At least the blades were still on their lowest setting. No danger of killing him - yet.

As the blade came towards Ithron, he flung his own sabre in its path, pushing it to the side. As the two halves of the torch sailed harmlessly into the far wall, Ithron pressed harder against the now lengthened blade. The crackling sound of the sabres increased in volume, with Ithron's eyes firmly staring into Mira's. In a movement, she had somersaulted backwards and shortened her blade.

That's interesting, Ithron thought. In his mind he filed away the fact that perhaps her blade couldn't be long and powerful at the same time. Perhaps it needed the density of a short sabre to be powerful. After a moment's pause the attack started again. As Ithron hacked and sliced his sabre, Mira blocked skilfully with careful strokes, and then went on an offensive of her own. Her blade narrowly missed his skin on several occasions. Surprised about being on the defensive, Ithron found himself off balance. He stumbled and feel to the floor.

Instantly, she was over him, and he only narrowly managed to block her down thrust with a parry. The girl used all her weight to press down on his sabre, trying to force it down and onto his exposed neck. A touch with the sabre wouldn't mean death, but it would mean defeat.

She was so close to victory but didn't have the strength in her arms to push the blade home, even with Ithron on the floor. He was resisting to the last ounce of his strength. Muttering something under her breath that Ithron didn't hear, Mira's onslaught lessened. He expected her to move away and be ready to start another engagement - but with a cold shock he realised that she intended no such thing.

He felt the Force increase in density in front of him - he sensed it around Mira's forearms. Suddenly, with the strength of an alien three times her own size, the girl forced her own sabre down. It pushed Ithron down to the ground. Her blade touched his bare neck and he felt it burn.

Forcing himself to concentrate, he used all his energy to concentrate the Force around himself. He siphoned it from the area, using it to fuel him - using it to push Mira back. He felt her resist but he managed to get to his knees and then to his feet. The two were still drawing on all the energies of the Force. They became a black hole, sucking and drawing Force energy, neither wanting to give the other an advantage.

The blades flickered and cracked from the stress of prolonged exposure to one of their own kind. For some reason that Ithron had not guessed, Mira hadn't given back.

"What's the.....matter?" he muttered to her. "I didn't think you went in for strength..."

The two apprentices, unaware of the subtleties of the Force, had drawn strength and power from the Force and channelled it into a single spot. There was a careful equilibrium - as in a tug of war. And just as in a tug of war, when the equilibrium was broken...

Ithron gently released his own pressure, intending to jump away and attack from a different angle, conceding this part of the match to the girl. As he started to do just that, he felt the Force destabilise and realised what was going to happen.

"SHIT, Mira....!" he shouted. A fraction of a second later, a shockwave in the Force knocked him off his feet. Presumably the same had happened to the other Apprentice, but he couldn't see - perhaps she had dodged. Rendered blind by the Force Push that was more powerful than anything he had experienced, except perhaps the time Necros sent him flying into a tree, he flew into the wall, back first.

He opened his eyes and groaned.

Mira had recognized what was going on, and she knew what was coming. It didn't take a genius to figure out that if they continued pressing sabers together, they were both going to get creamed. But as she recognized it, she was also powerless to stop it. An old Dathomirian proverb - Someone who meddles in a conflict not her own is as one that takes a dog by the ears. She hadn't meddled, but the last half could be applied to her now. She wanted to give in, but if she did so, both Apprentices would be hurt, and badly. She wasn't even sure how she knew this, but she did. Sensed it somehow, perhaps through the Force, perhaps just through several years of experience in the Dathomirian wilderness.

And then Ithron released pressure. As he yelled, Mira, knowing what would happen, was already jumping backwards. But she wasn't quick enough. The force of her jump simply added speed to her flight when the shockwave actually struck her. She sped towards the wall twice as quickly as Ithron. In her panic, she still remembered to attempt to cushion the impact with the Force, but once again she didn't have time. She hit the wall hard enough to nearly crack it and dropped unconscious to the floor.

Even in her subconscious mind, though, the Force continued to work, and in moments she was once again awake. Of course, when she awoke, she immediately thought that she would be better off out. Her head hurt like the devil, and abrasions and bruises covered her back. She did a quick inventory and realized that, luckily, no bones had broken. However, she hurt enough that moving itself would be difficult.

She slowly looked at Ithron, and, in his moment of pain, her mind flashed back to a time years before. Mynenial stood on the dueling floor with three other apprentices. It was the final round of the tournament, a place in which the apprentices proved their skills. The Jedi sat around in what amounted to stands. Master Corran Horn was there, as was Master Skywalker. Streen was overseeing the apprentices fight.

The red handkerchief hit the ground, signalling that the round had begun. Mira ducked a blow and immediately ended the fight for the apprentice on her right with a swift lightsaber stroke across the stomach, then two more on each arm. Three hits was the rule. She turned back to find only one competitor remaining.

He was a boy - almost a man, really. Several years older than her, he had only been around a short while. Ithron, she thought his name was. He was good - very strong - but a bit wild at times. Master Cole Donovan had been looking at him recently, and would probably take him as a Padawan.

She moved forward slowly, cautiously. Their sabers touched, then he raised his high to strike at her. She turned and kicked him in the chest. He went down hard, then looked up at her and Force pushed her to the ground.

The Sith staring at her from the ground was the same Ithron who she had fought at the Jedi Temple. Her eyebrows narrowed. "Ithron?" she asked in shock. "Master Donovan's Padawan?"

Ithron sat up, his head spinning. Across the room he could see Mira lying in a heap by the far wall. Perhaps it was the concentration of the Force in the room but for a moment, the scene flickered in Ithron's mind. For a moment he felt like....

It was years ago, at the Jedi Academy. Light was streaming in through the windows. It was the duelling floor - a tournament.

"There's a tournament of Padawans soon. You will be entering and I will be watching. I want to see you prove your character." The Master had said, for Ithron had spoken with Master Cole many times but still had no official status.

Ithron bowed to his opponents and they did the same. There was an alien of a species he didn't recognise - smaller than Ithron but more muscular, another human male who he had spoken with once or twice and finally a girl; younger than Ithron, she was already training under Master Horn, he remembered. Until now, he'd never spoken to her though.

The contest began and instantly he set high sights on the alien, knowing that he would have to use any advantage to win against Padawans who would probably have more skill than him. Activating the pale blue of the low-power training sabre, he stepped towards his target and after several moment's exchange of strokes, Ithron succeeded in striking his opponent's arm twice and getting a final touch on his back. The padawan bowed and stepped to the side of the ring respectfully.

Turning, Ithron saw the girl dispatch her own opponent with surprising ease. Glancing at the stand he saw Master Cole, his face impassive. Ithron had never fought against a girl before, but before he could think about what to do, she had kicked him to the ground. Acting on instinct, he used the Force Push skill he had learned only a few days ago and knocked her backwards.

The crowd were muttering with interest now and - looking up - Ithron saw Masters Cole and Horn exchange a look.

When the two young Jedi were on their feet and the match restarted, it became totally even. Ithron's advantage of height and physical strength was exactly countered by the girl's superior knowledge of sabre combat and the ways of the Force. Every time Ithron struck, the girl parried. When she sliced her own sabre, Ithron had been able to block her attacks.

After many minutes of this, with neither gaining the advantage, their eyes linked. A thought flickered between them. Facing each other, they each took a step backwards. Ithron deactivated his sabre. The girl did likewise. They bowed to each other and then to the Masters. It was over. There was enthusiastic clapping from the crowd, and the Masters descended to speak to them.

Ithron stepped forward, sweat dripping from his brow and offered his hand to the girl.

"I'm Ithron." he said, smiling. "You're very skilled."

"I'm Mynenial." she answered, smiling back.

Master Cole interrupted with Master Horn stood by his side. The two wore grave expressions.

"Ithron. Mynenial. That was a strange thing you did there." The Master had said. "But it is the way of the Jedi to know when to fight and when not to fight - often it takes many years before that lesson is learned." The Master sighed as if remembering an old memory. "Ithron, I will train you..."

He had looked around and into the smiling face of Mira...


...which melted into the present where the same Mynenial was indeed looking down on him. The shadows of the Sith Temple served only to remind Ithron of the irony of their current condition and how different it was from all those years ago.

"Yes, Mira. It's me..." Ithron smiled - something he hadn't done in far too long, he thought, stood up and stepped a few paces closer to her.

"So we meet again," Mira commented, more to herself than to the man standing before her. Her eyes narrowed. She also recalled the end of that battle in the Jedi Temple. That had been the first time she had not won a fight. Of course, her methods of winning had always been somewhat dubious. Stories existed in the Archives of a young Jedi nicknamed Scout. This young girl had been weak in the Force, yet she had won the tournament once and, according to the archives, been accepted as a Padawan as a result. She'd even fought against Asajj Ventress, if the records could be believed.

Ever since leaving the Temple, Mira had kept that story at the forefront of her mind. Scout had become her model. Instead of focusing on her Force abilities, she had worked on her natural skills - deception, unarmed combat, and sneak attacks. Now it was time to employ two of those.

As Ithron moved forward, presumably to rekindle what he must assume was a long-lost friendship, Mira also moved forward. She stretched out her hand to grasp his, but as she did so, her other hand swept her lightsaber from her belt and ignited it. She attempted to sweep it across his body, but in truth that attack was simply a feint. Instead, she reached for his arm, grabbing for a pressure point that should force him to the ground. If so, an arm lock would follow that would have him face-down and unable to move.

As she did so, she spoke. "Jedi may know when not to fight," she said, echoing Master Cole's words, "but a Sith never stops battling until his opponent is defeated."

Ithron saw Mira's sabre ignite. The smile left his lips - for good this time, and the last embers of empathy in his heart died. His expression assumed a coldness that would almost never leave it hereafter. Before he could react, he found his wrist grabbed and himself to the ground.

Jedi may know when not to fight but a Sith never stops battling until his opponent is defeated.

The girl was obviously pressing her advantage, because before Ithron was locked into place, she tried to get him into an arm lock. That wasn't her first mistake, but from Ithron's point of view it was her most useful. In the fraction of a second between her releasing her grip and making good the arm lock, Ithron had moved.

Using the Force Pull ability he had practiced so carefully in the training grounds, he focussed on pulling the entire far stone wall towards him. Of course, the stone wall was significantly heavier and also contained more dark side energy from the years of Sith duels. Thus, Ithron shot forward, sliding along the ground for several meters. Leaping to his feet, he ignited his own sabre.

Before, he had used his greater physical strength to his advantage by augmenting it with pure, unprocessed anger. This time, his rage was cold. Now he no longer cared about this girl, this CHILD. She was an opponent, nothing more. With one symbolic gesture, though doubtless she didn't realise it, she had turned Ithron's heart and mind upside down. She had destroyed his last links to all that was good and "Jedi" about him, she had burned the last bridges connecting him to ordinary people.

The cold rage he focussed until it burned like a plasma that could cut through steel. It burned behind his eyes, and, as he looked at her, he stepped forwards and sliced his sabre at directly at her.

"Game on, Mira." he murmured.

Mira was surprised when he broke her arm lock, and even more surprised when he slid out from under her, neatly depositing her on her rear. She kept her senses, though, and pushed off the ground, using her newly learned Force Jump ability. But instead of flipping backwards, away from the fight, she went over Ithron's head, igniting her saber as she did so. His strike passed under her feet as she lept.

She landed and spun, green and red light clashing together. The two sabers locked, and the combatant's eyes mirrored their weapons. Ithron's eyes reflected the color of his saber, burning with an intense hatred that Mira had not seen in an apprentice's eyes before. Her own eyes were a cold blue, meeting his stare and sending it back. No words were necessary; their eyes told all they felt.

In that one moment, Mira saw that Ithron had lost all connection with his past. Her one action had inadvertently cut his ties with the Jedi as effectively as if they had been severed by a vibro-blade. He was fully a Sith now, and there was no going back.

Then the moment was broken as Mira kicked out, connecting with Ithron's chest and sending him backwards. She spun her weapon and attacked, sending a flurry of rapid strikes from all potential angles, intending to confuse him and set him up for a final thrust.

OOC: Sorry for the length (or lack thereof). Work and all, you know how it is.

IC:

Ithron parried, blocked and struck again. Suddenly, Mira was moving. She struck with her foot, pushing Ithron back. Force jumping, he managed to right himself after somersaulting backwards. Without a moment's pause, his opponent was on the offensive again. He was under siege from all sides, being struck and slowly forced backwards. Mira was using her speed to great effect. Ithron's skilful strikes were always too slow and never seemed to connect. Mira on the other hand had to keep moving to keep her attack going. With no time to regroup, it must have difficult for Mira to plan a strategy.

Like two chessmasters in the middle of a championship match, the two Sith circled one another, with Ithron still steadily giving ground. Each saber strike was parried by its opposite number.

Ithron was nearing a wall and would soon have to turn at bay.

Ithron was giving ground before Mira's unrestrained assault, but that wasn't going to last for long. Mira could feel the strength leaving her already. Ithron seemed to be able to stop every one of her strikes, no matter how quickly she swung or how unpredictable she became. So she decided to change things up a bit.

As Ithron got nearer the wall, Mira knew that he had to be expecting an attempted kill, and normally, she would have gone for it. But his expectations would have allowed him to block it and subsequently turn the tables on her, potentially even winning the fight. So she did something more Jedi-like. The move would probably anger him, but it was worth it.

Instead of breaking contact with his blade the next time they connected, Mira spun her own weapon, forcing his to move in an awkward circle. By the time her wrists had completed a full rotation, Ithron's red saber was spinning off to the side, out of his grasp. She hesitated for just a moment, then swung to finish the fight. But that moment was enough for Ithron to duck and roll under her blade.

He Force Pulled the saber back to his hand and reignited it, turning to face Mira. Their positions were reversed now, with Mira's back to the wall. And she was tired. Ithron, on the other hand, seemed full of energy still. If Mira didn't break contact soon, she was going to lose.

Then a thought occurred. There was a way out. It would be difficult, and dangerous, but it was worth a shot. Instead of moving forward to meet Ithron's advance, Mira jumped up and backwards towards the wall, gathering the Force around her as she did so. When she felt the soles of her boots touch the wall, she pushed off, using the Force to propell her across the room. Rolling as she landed, she faded into the shadows in the corner before Ithron could even turn around.

Now it was time to rest. Ithron turned and searched for her, but Mira gathered the Force around her as best she could and became one with the shadows. Only her movement would give her away now, and she didn't intend to move.