Sera caught the silver saber’s blade an inch before it seared through her gut.
She had sensed that her Proconsul was not a man to be underestimated. She could feel the strength of the Force within him, the gleaming, steel-cored drive of a warrior. But touching at the edges of Aiden’s mind was one thing; trying not to get skewered before her little “trial” had even started was entirely something else.
Her training, the hours spent in dull, pointless meditation over saber forms faded somewhere between the second and third slash. He attacked fluidly, white blade burning through the air in sinuous, whip-like flashes. He didn’t strike her, as he very easily could have. Rather, he feinted, bluffed, probing her defenses as he forced her to retreat across the throne room, following after with quick, evenly-placed steps. A serpentine slash at her calf deflected into a slash at her wrist, which in turn faded into a jab at her throat. With each halting block, his blade hardly seemed to meet hers before it rebounded into the next strike, sparks left in its wake. Until…
This attack was most certainly not a feint. Bouncing from a cut at her shoulder, Aiden balanced himself on his back-foot for half a moment before launching into a stunningly fast thrust. Sera caught it by flash instinct alone, stepping in and slamming her golden blade against his silver. The dueling streams of fire roared against one another, flashes of molten plasma streaming off as she drove both sabers point-first into the polished tile. The warbling pattern of their light danced across their faces, breaking into sparkles against the metallic sheen of his synthetic arm. A low smile crossed Aiden’s face as she met his eyes, a stark grin dancing on his face in the glowing light of their clash.
“You have good instincts,” he stated simply, a teacher correcting a pupil’s form. “But you’ll need a loooot more than that to serve your Consul, to protect your Clan.”
The Force screamed a warning into her mind, a wordless cry that stilled the hammering of her hearts. Her bright-blue gaze trailed down just in time to catch the twitch of his wrist, just in time to see him rip a silvery sword from a sheath at his side, the evil hiss of the sheath ringing in the air as he levelled the curved point at the hollow of her throat.
“Much more,” Aiden confirmed with a small snort. She couldn’t tell if he sounded amused or...disappointed.
Ancestors, kriff my zerkin’ dunes. This was not how the test was supposed to be going. Lucine had been the one to call her in, of course. There was a mission to be done, something that she needed to be briefed on in person, and the Zabrak had answered at a moment’s notice. She’d arrived armed, as she had asked, practically skipping into the throne room with a beaming grin spread over her face.
Only to find Aiden, standing before the throne, with Lucine nowhere to be seen.
He had a trial for her, he’d said. A test.
A test of what? Certainly not her loyalty. Sera wore Arcona’s emblem emblazoned across her back, her devotion stitched as tight as the golden thread within her cloak. Her loyalty could hardly be questioned. Her ability? That must have been it. He was testing her skill, her prowess...and she was failing, miserably.
Sera’s bright blue eyes flashed, an icy fire burning through them. She moved in in a heartsbeat. Clenching her right fist, she moved to slap the sword away from her throat. A small, shining shield of yellow energy thrummed to life just before the back of her wrist met the blade’s flat, smacking it away and granting her precious seconds to move, to attack. She caught the Proconsul’s left wrist in a tight grip, her right hand shoving the scimitar further away as she stepped into his guard. Her own saber was wedged firmly into the molten tile. So, she let it go, hearing the hilt clatter to the floor as she pressed in further and drove her left elbow directly into the Arconan emblem emblazoned on Aiden’s chest. He seemed to feel the blow coming, arching his back and pulling away to lessen the impact, but the Force flowing through Sera’s musculature made what would have already been a hard blow ferocious.
The strike crushed the breath from his lungs, the trapped saber slipping from his grip as he was shunted back a step. But, Aiden wasn’t one to lose his balance. Sera’s hearts pounded with the thrill of battle, a resonant rhythm that coursed through her blood as her daggers flew into her hands with a pull of the Force. Silvery blades flashed in spinning arcs, the acrobatic cadence of K’thri utilizing her forward momentum to drive her slashes, channeling into the familiar knives. She could feel the Force within her, a chained fury hovering just beyond her grasp, pulsing with anticipation as she launched each strike.
But, she just couldn’t hit him. She would lunge for a slash, and the sword would arc just past her face, warding off the attack. She would aim a straight kick directly at his gut, but only catch the billowing end of his cloak, the fine black cloth screening him from her attack. He met her jabs with perfect parries, steel clanking against the odd, warbled metal of his blade with bell-like clangs. The short length of her Zabraki dagger and trusty hunting knife leaving her little leverage against his guard. Sera could sense Aiden, feel the same glorious, unabated thrill that surged through her. Was he leading her somewhere? Toying with her? Or just...relishing the fight?
It didn’t matter. Her surging offensive had forced him to retreat across the throne room, and now he was cornered. The Proconsul found his retreat blocked as his next step backed him up against one of the thick granite pillars that lined the room. If anything, it only made him grin wider, trickles of sweat beading down his brow.
With his back to the wall, Aiden’s next attack was far more direct, and far more serious. The upward slash was lightning fast, the dark sword seeming to blur through the air. Sera caught it just before the wickedly curved length would have spilled her guts onto the tile, catching it between the crossed blades of her daggers. They struggled there for a moment, the maroon tattoos lining Sera’s flesh rippling as her musculature strained.
Once again, a warning in the Force saved her. She felt the wordless cry once more, and her gaze redirected just as a curved, gleaming length shot from Aiden’s belt into his hand, the shoto saber hilt exploding into amethyst light. With her daggers pinned low, keeping his sword back, she had left herself wide open. The Proconsul grinned, moving to level the saber at Sera’s throat...only to be stopped dead as Sera’s right boot slammed into his wrist, pinning the cybernetic to the pillar over his head with a dull metallic clank. It was her only option. Not a particularly good one, but it worked.
Her position was...awkward, to say the least. Though the high-kick was a standard part of K’thri’s retinue, and a mainstay tactic of Sera’s particular style, this was stretching even her. Balanced on one foot, she had both of his weapons locked, but nowhere to go herself.
The Zabrak met Aiden’s eyes once again. This time, she matched his grin, bright-blue eyes flashing.
“Is this enough instinct for you?” she laughed, still straining to hold his sword back.
“Maybe. But, as nice as it is to watch you do the splits, it won’t exactly help the throne,” he responded, flexing his wrist against the bottom of her boot. She could feel him formulating…something. But what?
“Oh? Maybe I could help you, though,” she teased lightly. “Start by kicking your ass a little bit, loosen you up for a few drinks…”
His blue-green eyes seemed to glow as they caught her gaze, with both humor and an intensity that caught her off-guard. Again, she felt the Force well up in him, flashes of light and dark storming within, like bolts of lightning searing through a roiling storm. That mental image was surprisingly clear, crystalline, familiar.
Then, it disappeared. Not just that, however. Instantly, her sense of the Force faded, the pounding thrill of battle shattering as her concentration suddenly fizzled into nothing. Sera’s hearts hitched in her chest, and she saw a wide grin cross Aiden’s face.
“Sorry...but I prefer my women with a little more…balance.”
The Force had no warning to give when he thrust his shoulder directly into Sera’s chest, knocking her, very appropriately, off balance. It gave him space. Just enough space, in fact, to teach her a further lesson. As enjoyable as flashy bladework was, it was nothing compared to the power of the Force, Right hand rising, he reached out, called upon all the power that he could muster, channeling pure potential energy into his system. Then, he brought all of it down.
Aiden slapped his open palm against the tile...and the thick slabs of sandstone cracked, shattering under a sudden increase in pressure as pure kinetic energy bloomed outward. It struck Sera full in the face, throwing the Zabrak across the room, her white cloak flaring out behind her. She bounced hard, the fabric and thin plate of her light armor providing little protection against the cold tile floor as she rolled...all the way to the foot of the grand, Serpentine Throne.
