A Return to Form [Red]

[Mara]

[…from x]

She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly with her eyes closed, needing to relax both her mind and body. After repeating this twice, she finally felt prepared enough to continue on to the next step. The Twi’lek lifted her arm away from her side, a black lightsaber hilt held in her hand, and held it out in front of her. With a press of her thumb, it ignited, a red glow washing over her yellow skin and shining as pinpricks in her violet eyes. Methodically, she began moving through the familiar stances of Form I, the moves she had learned as a padawan of the Jedi and reinforced with her former Sith master becoming more and more comfortable to her as time went on.

Looma Isana was standing near a corner in one of the many training rooms of the temple on Korriban. At this hour of the day, it was mostly deserted. Only a handful of other Sith were within, having their own lightsaber practice sessions, dueling with each other and honing their skills. She, however, preferred to keep to herself. The only reason she was out here instead of in her personal quarters was all a matter of space. Her room was sparse in both size and furnishings, and she had quickly realized, after a few scrapes and bruises, that she needed a more open area.

The Twi’lek initiate had recently returned to the Sith planet after attending to a personal matter. She had gone looking for her older sister, after the visions of the female’s danger and trouble had become too much to bear. Looma had departed Korriban in a ship given to her by one of her few friends within the Order and headed off on her quest. To Ryloth and then to the worlds in Hutt-controlled space. Along the way she had encountered others of her species, unique in their own ways, but as the weeks passed, she found no signs of her sister Leef. And she had finally come to the hard conclusion that her mission had been doomed from the start, and with a heavy heart, discontinued her search and set course for Korriban. It was high time she got back on the path she was meant for: her further training as a Sith.

But to complete her aspirations, she needed a master. For her previous master had deserted her months ago. The abandonment had sent her into an angry and depressive spiral that she had been stuck in. However, a fellow Sith—the same who had aided her with the transport off-planet—had unexpectedly snapped her out of it. Looma cane to the realization that her moping and sulking was doing her no favors. What was done was done, and she had to move on. No longer were her emotions going to control her, but she would control them, using them to her advantage, strengthening her grasp of the dark side of the Force. Her rage would be an ally not an impairment.

In order to catch the visage of a new master, however, she knew she needed to make herself a viable candidate. Merely shrugging the proverbial monkey lizard off her back was not enough. The Twi’lek had to get back in shape, both physical and mentally, as well as emotionally. She had practiced a bit during the long hyperspace trips during her journey away, but once she returned to the temple, she had went at it with all her energy. And her focus had been mainly on her lack of lightsaber competence. Though she excelled at using the Force and making it bend to her will, the energy weapon was something Looma had yet to succeed at properly.

So she had concentrated on improving her skills with the lightsaber, training herself during any free time. Just as she was at the moment, working through Shii-Cho, at first slowly and then more rapidly. Looma was clad simply in loose brown trousers and tunic, having discarded her heavy black cloak as well as boots in favor of ease of movement. Her only adornments were the leather headband and matching caps covering the tips of her lekku and the jeweled ruby pendant hanging against her chest. A gift of her old master, she had been reluctant to part with it. As well as with the two lightsabers he had left in her care; however, she refused to use them, staying with the familiar weight and heft of her own weapon.

Feeling confident in her warm-up, Looma stepped back upright, her weapon still lit but returning to her side. Violet eyes closing, she drew on the Force and hung on it for a while. Then suddenly, she broke from her still posture and lashed out with her red blade, fighting an imaginary foe. Her wrist twisted the lightsaber back and forth, her feet danced back and forth as the duel that was only in her head continued. She was jerky at first, using muscle memory that had gone dusty, but her motions smoothed out. All the while, thoughts of a fight that had almost taken her life due to rashness with a lightsaber fresh in her mind. But this time she was careful to keep herself in check.

[Red]

Mithus's brow was furrowed in concentration, sweat running down his head before catching onto the soft fabric of his blind fold. He held the training saber tightly, the buzz of power nearly nonexistent, a sigh of its weak strength. It had been a full month since he'd arrived on Korriban but it felt like a life time ago. Each day there was something else to read or practice. From learning to connect to the force at will to lightsaber training, the list grew with each successful execution making it a daunting task that sometimes overwhelmed the boy. Worse yet, was that while most of the others younglings had masters, Mithus was alone.

He didn't mind being alone, that was how he was back home after everything settled so it wasn't an alien feeling. But this was a different beast, one that required guidance from someone that had walked this path before. Hervor had given him that, if just barely. She'd brought him here, made sure she was settled and then vanished from sight. Maybe it was her intention, a test to see if he was worthy of being her apprentice by giving him only enough direction and seeing if he could be self sufficient. She'd certainly shown him how to work the holocorns and her advice on feeling the force was spot on, but from there he had to do his own research.

Mithus was still struggling on some fronts. He wasn't the smartest child nor did he seem to have an aptitude for mathematics, but his force progression and lightsaber skills were making good progress. There was one lesson that was had him stumped though. According to both Hervor and the masters of old, one could use his or her emotion to bend the force to their will more effectively, but Mithus could not for the life of him grasp that concept. For him the force was more accessible when he deliberatly cleared his mind to focus on the task alone, and even then it was not the best. To use his anger, or joy to as a focal point proved much harder than one would think, but Mithus was convinced that if he was able to do as instructed that the leagues of power that they spoke of would be his.

A small tug pulled at his mind's eye, warning him of danger as a blaster bolt discharged from the training sphere as he pulled his arms back to deflect the projectile. He didn't fight the smile of pride that split his face. After two weeks Mithus was becoming more adept in utilizing the force in a practical way, and avoiding the sting from the training droid was its own reward. Reaching out with the force he deactivated the little droid while he flicked of the lightsaber.

He'd been at the training for over an hour, his black tunic was already damp with sweat but there was much more to be done before Mithus could turn in. He'd only had a tenuous hold on the first lightsaber form, fighting with the lightsaber was something that the farm boy still had not gotten used to, but he knew the best way was to continue his practice with diligence in order to get better. The boy was about to do just that when he felt a prickling on his neck as one of the others in the room drew onto the force. Following his senses he found a girl, a Twi'lek, off in a corner standing there in a daze. Then, in an impressive display of speed, she was everywhere, going through the motions of form one in a way that left Mithus in awe. So far Mithus had kept to himself, from studying in the archives to training alone until dark. Maybe it was time to change that.

Training saber in hand, Mithus made his way over to the alien girl with hopes of a combined effort for saber training, 'Iron sharpens Iron, right dad?' He didn't want to interrupt her, so instead he just stood a small ways away and watched her motions until finally he saw an opening to introduce himself, "Hello. I noticed you going through the motions and was wondering if you'd like a partner in training?"

[Mara]

The red blade juked back and forth, parrying and riposting against the opponent of her mind's eye. They were going back and forth, neither of them weakening, allowing the other an opening to attack and damage. Looma's duel was going much more positively than any she had endured in reality, but there was a certain allowance allowed in imagination. However, she did not allow herself to use the training session to grow too cocky with her skills. She was very aware of how feeble her lightsaber abilities really were against breathing adversaries. This was merely to make the Twi'lek more comfortable with the moves so that eventually it would become second nature to her, as easy to drop into as her telekinetic powers.

With one quick backhanded slash that was not one of Shii-Cho's repertoire but borne of instinct, she decapitated the vision of the Jedi she had been fighting. Revenge for the damage he had caused her on Subterrel. Breathing hard but not winded, she came to a stop, relaxing out of her battle stance and straightening her posture. She listened to the hum of her weapon for another moment or two before depressing the switch and shutting off the blade, satisfied with her performance and with the strides she was making. That is when she felt the nearby presence of another Sith seconds before he spoke to her.

Looma turned around to rest her violet-eyed gaze on the boy. For she could feel through the Force that he was a novice. It was very rare for the teenage Twi'lek initiate to encounter a Sith at the temple below her in the matter of mastery of the Force. He stood a few paces away from her, a human about a head shorter than she, and appeared to be about half her age. Still, despite everything going against him, this child had the confidence to inquire whether she wanted spar with him. The old Looma would have sneered at him, not feeling this boy worthy of her time, and commanded him to get out of her sight.

However, now she had a much clearer outlook on the universe, a wider view of life at the temple and as a practitioner of the dark side. Collaboration was key; no Sith was an island. And Sith of all sizes and ages had the potential to add something new to her knowledge. She understood these dynamics, in a strange way not too unlike those of the Jedi who had abandoned her to Bakura. The leather-capped tips of her yellow lekku twitched as she stepped forward towards the boy. Looma nodded down at him in acknowledgement. "I could use another workout. If you're offering."

[Red]

Mithus forced himself to stand firm under the gaze of the slightly older Sith. She would not see him sweat without effort. Mithus was still relativly young, and while he had seen several different species in his short time on this plane, for the life of him he could not remember the names. 'She is pretty for a..alien.' How absurd of him to use that term, especially when he too was an alien to this world. Anyway, she'd given her concent to a spar so now the mini Sith had his chance to test his form against a living opponent.

"I' didn't have anyone to really fight against so i'm going to go full force. You looked capable though, so at the best it should be just that for you, a workout." Better now to warn her of his lack of skill before she got her hopes up, or worse, threw something at him that he had no chance of defending against. Regardless of their intensity training sabers hurt. Taking a small step back to allow for a little more breathing room, Mithus ignited his saber and shifted, rather clumsily, into a Shii-cho stance.

Once he saw her at the ready, the youngster took the iniative to make the first move. With both hands firmly on the hilt he raised the blade before slashing a diagonally towards her right side, a manuver that was not by any means complex, but he was still sluggish with the execution.

[Mara]

She dipped her head once at the boy as he replied, acknowledging his statement and admiring his nerve. Looma knew she would have been partly disappointed in the young Sith if he hadn't been willing to throw his entire skill set at her, holding nothing back against a living, breathing opponent. Especially since he had already shown courage in coming up to her and offering his services as a dueling partner, it would have been a point against him if hadn't been prepared to do so. Timidity would get him nowhere, here in the practice rooms or anywhere in the temple. Or out in the galaxy.

As he stepped back in preparation, the young Twi'lek followed suit, going back a couple paces. His blade came to life, and she immediately noticed it was but a training saber. She should have anticipated that this child of the Sith would not have graduated yet to a fully functioning blade such as she held in her own hand. Looma tossed her hilt onto the cloak that lay off to the side and then reached out in the Force toward a rack of training sabers that stood several meters down the room. It would have been quite unfair of her to continue using a weapon superior to the boy's. Not to mention the very real possibility that he might not be able to defend it and get hurt. Something she didn't want; this was supposed to be practice after all, not a real fight.

A gray cylinder slapped against her palm a second later, and she wrapped her fingers around the hilt, memories making its touch familiar. She herself had used these training weapons for many years, first with the Jedi and then when she had arrived to the temple on Korriban. It hadn't been until her former master had selected Looma that she had been given a true lightsaber. And in fact, sometimes she still picked one up from time to time, whenever she was trying something new and preferred not to accidentally sever a limb during her private exercises.

Looma stood there, waiting. This boy child had made the request of her, and she would let him make the first move. She smoothly took up a mirrored Shii-Cho stance and held her weapon in front of her, still unlit. Her body was relaxed, weight evenly distributed on both slightly bent legs, ready for anything he might throw at her. Not wasting any time, her opponent struck, aiming for her right side. Looma reacted, igniting her lightsaber and twisting her wrist to easily block his blade with plenty of time. A predictable move, but she knew as time went by, he would get more comfortable, and his accuracy would increase.

Having batted away his first attack, the yellow Twi'lek decided to strike back, instead of remaining merely like a training droid that was programmed only to react to attacks. He would never learn if his fighting was only single-minded. One must be equally skilled at both defense and offense. So she immediately swung her own weapon forward, low and towards the boy's knees. But at the last moment, she switched targets and moved her hand upwards, directing her focus up towards his head.