Against the Wind [Ash]

[Mara]

[...from A Return to Form]

She stood out a rocky plain a few hundred meters from the stone temple. A breeze rippled her limp hood and the bottom hem of her black robe before making its way past and on towards the horizon. The yellow-skinned Twi'lek had her head tilted upwards, letting the brisk air play across the bare skin of her face, the leather-capped tips of her lekku twitching in brief pleasure. Looma Isana sucked in a deep breath of the freshness and let it out slowly, steadying her heartbeat for what was to come. Tuning herself to the Force within and from the tiny flicks of life around her.

The young Sith had been back on Korriban for a couple of weeks now, her quest to find her older sister an utter failure. But this did not bother her; Looma had know it was an extreme longshot to find any information on Leef. She had grown a lot, especially emotionally, and could finally shut the door on that part of her past and move on to her future. It would no longer hold her back, only strengthen her. Which had meant rededicating herself to her training, focusing on honing her skills. Hoping to catch the eye of a potential master to continue her teaching more formally and get the Twi'lek back on track for what she had been brought to this planet years ago to achieve.

Usually she stayed within the stone walls of the temple, practicing in her private quarters or in the public training rooms, depending on which techniques she was working on at any given time. Whenever she brought out her lightsaber, she needed the expansiveness that the training areas gave her. The energy weapon was Looma's weakest point, and it was safest for herself and anyone around her that she have the space to move around and not create an accidental bloodbath. However, when she decided to sharpen her grasp and manipulation of the Force, the  confines of her appointed billet had everything she required.

Today, though, Looma had decided to test herself further. Her aptitude with telekinesis was probably one of her greatest talents. Where she was lousy with a lightsaber she more than  made up with it with her touch of the Force and getting it to do her will. But it had been quite some time that she had dared practice her skills away from a controlled environment. Inside the temple, there was nothing acting against her, and she was able to move objects, large and small, with ease. Beyond the walls, however, many factors would be influencing them, enacting a tug-of-war between natural forces and the Force which aided her.

Looma opened her violet eyes and straightened her head. The brief meditative pose had calmed her sufficiently, and she was ready now to move on to business. She reached into her black cloak and pulled out a small leather bag, worn and nondescript, plopping onto her left hand. But its contents were anything but ordinary. With a finger flick of the Force with her right hand, she untied the string holding it closed, and the sides fell down in little puddles, revealing the metal shards within. These, along with other mementos, had been gifts from her former master, now long gone. Though now they were merely tools and no longer held the pain of his desertion.

Lifting out her free arm, she waved the hand over the opened bag in a couple of circles and then shot it out. She had been touching each jagged piece with the Force, reacquainting herself with them, and once gaining influence over them, had blasted them from their vessel and out into the air in front of her. Looma allowed the cloud of metal shards to hover there, lightly manipulating their positions so that it shimmered in the sunlight peeking out here and there up in the sky. For now, it was simple, much as if she had been indoors, but she also knew the wind was likely to pick up any moment now, and she would have her work cut out for her, keeping her precious shards from blowing away from her invisible grasp.

[Ash]

Fire dotted the landscaped, narrated by screams, blaster fire, and explosions. What once was greenery was now a burning war-zone as far as the eye could see. It was soldier against soldier out there, with the occasional lightsaber appearing and disappearing.

Ahead of him, a large, four armed Basilisk cut through soldiers, accompanied by a young Jedi. It didn't take long for her to be cut down, fallowed by him. It was then that he realized that he knew what was going on, and what would happen next.

He turned around, looking at the building behind him, and watched it go up in flames as an explosion ripped through it. Waves of agony washed over the man as he howled in pain.

AHHH!!!

Diarmuid awoke with a start, sitting strait up, a lightsaber lit in his hand. His body was coated slick with a cold sweat. Taking deep lungfuls of air, he calmed himself down from his dream. After a few heartbeats, Diarmuid climbed out of his bed.

20 minutes later, he was washed and clothed, Gae Dearg collapsed on his back, Gae Buidhe hidden in his vambrace on his left forearm and his two lightsabers on his belt. Once outside, he felt at ease, especially with the cool wind blowing across his body and face. Before setting off on a walk, he pulled up his arm sleeve on his right arm. Finally, he set off.

It didn't take long until he sensed someone. Curious, he set off in that direction, minimizing his presence in the force. What he found not far off was a yellow skinned Twi-lek, and it looked like she was levitating a number of objects.

The man sat down on a large rock half a dozen meters behind the young woman, and took a swig of some water he had. Diarmuid had a rather bored look on his face and he sent low spirals off the force towards her, making it seem like small, shallow gusts of wind were blowing against her.

[Mara]

Her yellow fingers waved up and down as she played with the shards of metal hovering in the air in front of her. The cloud of sharp pieces undulated with her touch of the Force. But this was merely a warm-up; the real test would come when she manipulated them shard by shard, instead of controlling them all together in one mass. It was easy enough for the Twi'lek to use them as one multifaceted object, and it was quite another to isolate one from the group, simultaneously retaining control on each as she did so.

Looma pulled further onto the Force, letting its power flow into her, strengthening her. She dropped the empty bag that her little weapons had occupied just a few minutes ago, lifting both hands out away from her body.  Her right continued to keep the shard swarm afloat, gently bobbing up and down with both the Force and light air currents. Then she picked out a shard, seeing it both with her violet eyes and within the Force. Reaching out her left hand, she nudged it free from its jagged metal flock, pulling it off to the side. It took all of her concentration and focus to do so; with all her attention on her task, she could not have notice the being who had come up behind her and was watching her, silently.

She had to almost split her brain between both actions, keeping the ball of shards up while also controlling the single piece she had pulled from it. The Twi'lek was shaky at first; the isolated shard kept wanting to drop down to the ground or be snapped back to its brethren like a magnet. But Looma eventually stabilized both, one by each hand and her grasp of the Force. A bit of breeze tugged at the bottom of her cloak, but she thought nothing of it, almost not feeling the movement against her ankles. It was time to up the ante, and she began tweezing out a second shard from the cloud, while keeping a handle on what she had already accomplished.

Holding her breath, her hairless brow knitted in concentration, she used the Force to tug it out, willing it to join the first piece she had removed. She had it halfway between the single shard and the cloud when the wind increased its presence around her. Looma could no longer ignore it and its influence against what she was trying to do as it whipped past every few seconds. The Twi'lek had to reach ever deeply into the Force in order to maintain her hold on the weaving mass of shards, as well as the solo one she had taken from it and the second she was trying to join it with.

Gasping now with the effort, heart pounding, she was losing her grip. It had been a while since she had tried to execute such a maneuver, and her whole body and mind was straining against maintaining it. She was doing so many things at once, or at least attempting them for the moment, and her focus was waning. Signals were getting crossed with mixed instructions as she delved into the Force ever more, hoping it would save her, but it only served to confuse things still more. The cloud of shards wavered and threatened to drop as her hand shook, her fingers curling as if wanting to wrap physically around them.

As a particularly strong gust blew against her, she made a quick decision as nature attempted to take her weapons away. She put aside her exercise to focus on not losing her presence shards. Obviously she had tried too much too quickly and would have to take things more slowly in the future. Looma reached out both arms and brought them together, shoving the two isolated pieces back into their cloud. Eventually she collapsed it on itself, resolving the blur into a small facsimile of a shiny metal ball, floating in the air. But the wind remained, and she had to keep her grip on the Force; though it was now less prone to be buffeted in its current state, it took more out of her to keep it compacted and under her control.

[Ash]

A faint smile appeared on Diarmuid's face as he watched the girl before him use the force to manipulate the... whatever she was messing with. It looked like some multifaceted ball , until she started to pull parts of it apart.

So, it seemed to be just a wad of metallic shards that she was using to self train. It wasn't too much of a bad idea, and using the environment as well to help her was pretty smart as well, at least until some random stranger came around and started to manipulate the world around her.

It wasn't long before the yellow skinned alien was gasping and had to collapse everything to minimize the strain she had. Maybe he was a bit rough on her: he didn't know her strengths or weaknesses after all. After a moment, he banished that thought: he wasn't some Jedi anymore consoling a padawan, though her effort reminded him of his former padawan back was he was a Jedi.

Diarmuid sat forward slightly now, resting his left arm on his left knee, while his right leg was down. He looked quite relaxed as his orange eyes glinted.

Nearly had it that time, kid.

[Mara]

Not wanting to lose her precious shards to a whim of the wind, Looma had decided to stop for the afternoon. Gather her things and go off to rest. There was nothing more to be gained this time. So slowly, she began to pull the undulating ball of her metal shards closer to her. However, with most of her energy already exhausted on her training exercise, as well as keeping hold of the tiny weapons, it took all her remaining strength to remain in control of them as the tight cloud came towards her. She could not simply draw them to her in an instant. The gusts had calmed down almost as suddenly as they had sprung up on her, but the breeze had not abated completely and threatened to work against her in her weakened state.

But then a voice broke into her concentration, the last thing she had expected. And everything she had been trying to accomplish shattered, just like the metal shards she had been controlling with the Force. She lost her grip on them, and they fell to the ground, amid the dust being teased by the swirling wind. Her reaction was to immediately spin around to see who had disturbed her, her violet eyes flashing violently, head-tails twitching in agitation. A tall lanky man was sitting perched on a rock a few meters from her. Though Looma did not recognize him, nor his place in the temple, she had half a mind to give him a piece of her mind.

Until she remembered her shards, scattered about the earth nearby. Scolding this stranger would not help things. Her old self might have gone ahead and done so, but she had learned over the last months to think more before speaking. Especially with little information about who this man was. Looma instead turned her back on him, putting all her attention on reaching into the Force and scooping up all her shards before another breath of wind took them too far out of range for her to regain them. Her anger at the interruption helped her, powering her, and it took only a few minutes for her to get all the metal pieces safely tucked away into their pouch.

Tucking it away into her cloak, Looma pivoted around to face the mysterious stranger, this time not so urgently.  With her business taken care of, she felt she could relax a bit. But she was still wary of this tall man. The Twi'lek stepped forward towards him and nodded once in a polite bow in his direction. Said, "Thank you." In the past she would have bite out an order, raging at having been called 'kid'. Now, though, she could let the word wash over her without effect. Mostly. "And you are?" she asked, not spitefully, just curiously. No irritated response at him having cut into her training moment.

[Ash]

As soon as Diarmuid finished speaking, the girl lost her concentration and let the pile of metal fall to the powdery ground. Instantly, she turned around, violet eyes blazing and lekku twitching healthily. She looked like she was ready to give him a piece of her mind, and in that sense, he was reminded of his first padawan when he was still a jedi; Isi wouldn't have held back with lecturing Diarmuid. The reminder tightened up his chest, but he hid everything behind a sly smile and narrow orange eyes

Instead, she turned around and began collecting up the pieces of metal before they were forever lost. Now, turning your back on someone normally wasn't a smart thing to do, but Diarmuid had more respect and honor than most the Sith around, here, and let the young woman collect her shards.

Once done, she turned to him again, this time a bit more slower. She seemed a bit more relaxed now, but still wary and on her guard. He eyed her carefully and casually as she stepped forward and nodded with a respectful bow. For a Twi'lek, she dressed conservatively, hiding much of her skin, but that could be due to the harshness of this planet. Diarmuid hopped off the rock he was on and offered his own respectful little bow: one warrior to another.

Sorry for not introducing myself sooner. I'm Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, or the Knight known as Lancer out on the battlefields. Whats might yours be?

She didn't look very old, and probably hasn't seen any major battles during the war. If she had, then good on her. However, Diarmuid was known within the Military, some of which have been rotating guards here at the academy. He would be surprised if a small fraction outside the military here heard of him. While not fighting, he was just some lazy bum who looked ready for anyone to stick a vibroknife into. That was probably how he looked now.

[Mara]

Looma felt no offense ripple off this man through the Force at her having been so forward. He was not bothered by this young Twi'lek inquiring such a personal detail out of him without so much as a 'hello,' though he was but a stranger to her. Nor had she deigned to introduce herself before taking this approach. So either he was as relaxed and laid-back as he appeared, or he was hiding his true intentions with a powerful attunement with the Force, hoping to lull her into making a mistake. But Looma didn't sense anything unwelcome in his mien, and so while still on the alert, allowed herself to loosen up.

She mentally rolled the name over her tongue a few times, trying to get a grasp on it before filing it away in her memory banks. Looma would likely never have to speak it aloud anyway. It was odd and a bit of a twister, but she was no one to talk. Her own moniker given at birth would probably make other beings stumble over its pronunciation. Part of the reason many Twi'leks would forgo the traditional naming conventions and convert their names into something more Basic-friendly.

But then he had mentioned a nickname: Lancer. Looma thought back. The young Twi'lek had partook in a skirmish on Subterrel back when she had been new to the Order and still learning under her first master. It had not gone well for her; she had suffered a grave injury to one of her lekku, almost losing the tip in the process. Since then, she had not been involved in any of the other battles and invasions her fellow Sith had enacted against the Republic and the Jedi. Nor had she been one to gossip or listen to rumors in the last few months, given the state her mind had been in. And so this name, neither name, really, were familiar to her.

"Looma. Looma Isana." She answered, having nothing to hide from this man. For he obviously outranked her, not only in status at the temple as a knight but in experience as well, given his time on the battlefields, as he said. "I'm an initiate at the temple," Looma added unnecessarily; it was probably pretty clear to this man that she had a lot of learning left to do. But the Twi'lek was intrigued why a Sith of his rank would be out here, wandering outside, watching someone such as her. And felt led by the Force to make it known she was not at the moment anyone's apprentice, unsure the motive behind its push.

[Ash]

Diarmuid began walking, slowly, closer to the young girl, staying more then a meter away from her to allow himself a good look at her. There were no undertones in his little viewing of her; it was just him judging her based on how he views her.

He made a full revolution around her before the young Twi'lek gave him her name, as well as a little bit of extra information. So it seemed she didn't have a master, which was why she was training out here. Three things popped into Diarmuid's head about her. The first thing was that no one deemed her strong enough to be an apprentice, but she would have probably been killed off. Second, was she had a master, who was now probably dead. Third was that she was new around here.

Something told him that choice number three was probably wrong. She was honest with him when speaking, so something may have have happened.

What really caught him, however, was that, despite the burst of emotion Dairmuid felt from Looma when he first spoke out, she didn't act on it. She was very containing of her emotions. Maybe he could coax her into a small outburst, and really see how she was.

Well then, little initiate, don't let me stop you from your training. You'll never get a master without a little hard work and spirit.

Diarmuid took a step back now, giving the young girl an extra meter of room.

[Mara]

Perhaps she was still feeling the effects of her exercise with her shards; exhaustion rendering her blase about it all. Or maybe she had just matured and learned to let the small annoyances wash over her. But the yellow Twi'lek oddly did not feel nervous at having this strange Sith studying her. Walking around her, his eyes seemingly trying to penetrate deeply into her. As if she were some kind of sculpture or art piece. Her former self would have been wary and giving the man a taste of his own medicine, narrowing her violet eyes at him as she peered back, trying to figure out the why. Now, though, she just stood quietly, taking it, waiting for him to reveal his intentions before she decided how to act.

He had asked her her name then, and she had given it, along with her status at the temple. This latter detail seemed to amuse the man, and he had stepped back, goading her on. Because she could read between the lines, could tell that he wasn't merely just indicating that he was done with her and that she should return to her training. Besides the fact that he wasn't leaving her alone, but instead standing by, as if to observe her more fully, there was something in his tone, written on his face. And something she felt in the Force and deep in her gut.

Looma remained where she was, not wanting to let this strange Sith, even if he out-ranked her by years, get what he wanted. Because obviously he was manipulating her, pressuring her weakness: the fact that she had yet to find a new master. What was he trying to prove, anyway, by bullying a initiate? Forcing her into returning to her telekinesis practice when she had already spent all her energy doing so and had nothing left. No, she would not cower to his tricks. She had to keep to her new path, one where she did not allow her emotions to get the best of her.

But he kept staring at her, waiting for her to do something. And it was starting to get on her nerves, despite everything she was trying to do to ignore it all. Her lekku twitched in agitation, and she shifted her weight from leg to leg. His words were still hovering around in the air around her, and she could no longer keep them at bay. They burrowed into her mind, making her feel obsolete, unworthy. Looma wondered if he was correct, knew he spoke the truth. That she had to keep at it, relentlessly, to have a shot at someone choosing her as his apprentice.

Slowly, she nodded, once, giving in. Making herself believe that she was doing this of her own accord, not because of anything he had said. "You're right." Looma shrugged her shoulders and let her cloak fall down behind her where she was, not bothering to give herself more space. With a rapid twist of her wrist, the bag of shards shot out of the robe and landed on her yellow palm. Another flick and the bag opened up, the pieces of metal glinting in the sunlight. And then a wave of her arm, and she sent the whirling shards violently towards the man. After all, he had wanted her to continue practice, and what better than to practice on a live target? Said the tiny part of her mind that wanted revenge on him for interrupting her, for manipulating her, for everything. The part she was not consciously aware of at the moment.

[Ash]

The initiate didn't move while Diarmuid was walking around her. He didn't feel any nervousness coming from the yellow-skinned Twi'lek, which gave him mixed feelings and thoughts.

Besides the lack of nervousness from her, he was also feeling something else that he couldn't quite place. He knew she was smart, without provoking an attack, but she was also reading him. Slowly, she nodded once, saying a few words.

With a shrug of her shoulders, the girl dropped her cloak. Now came the fun part: using the force, she called forth the bag of metal bits she was practicing with earlier, it landing in her hand. Another twinge, and it was open. After a push, the metal was sent spinning at him.

Diarmuid had a feeling that this was going to happen, and his defense was up higher than usual. The shards flying at him made him think of a frag grenade: simple but effective... and easy to counter.

Rather than stop the flying metal death sent at him, we waved his left hand inside to outside, using the force to send the metal wide. Simultaneously, his right hand had hold of his collapsed spear, unleashed it, sending the death spike towards the close girl. He also gave off a massive wave of killing intent: he wasn't planing on killing the girl, but she didn't need to know that. He would make sure to stop before he stabbed her.

((If you don't like something let me know. I know I kinda blew off your attack... literally, but im thinking senior force user power against initiate.))

[Mara]

It had been an ill-conceived maneuver on her part, attacking this more experienced Force user. A lapse of judgement aided by her growing exhaustion brought on by her earlier training and exasperated by the other Sith's words. But, without thinking of the consequences or effectiveness of her actions, she had gone and done it anyway, no longer able to keep herself calm and nonreactive. Because the business of reinventing herself was still a work in progress; she was still figuring things out as she went along. And she was yet completely immune to the things that had driven her old self to rage.

As she watched her metal shards hurtling through the air towards the man, she belatedly realized her err. Obviously this man was much more power than she, and her measly offensive would be little more than an annoyance for him. Looma braced herself for what was to come, an inevitable attack in response to her own, and likely much more deadly. Whether or not he actually had goaded her into coming at him, whether it was his fault she had turned on him or her own for being so naive, no longer held any weight. Because she hadn't any clue as to this Sith's intentions towards her, and she was in full survival mode. She had to protect herself to live another day.

However, the yellow Twi'lek first reaction was not to throw up a shield or study her opponent; instead, she felt a flash of anger as the other batted away her precious shards as easily as waving away a bothersome insect. For a nanosecond she turned her focus towards them and away from the man, wanting to grab them with the Force and bring them back to her possession. For they meant a lot to her,  being a gift from her former master. But continuing on this line would endanger her, her logic told her. No sooner had the Sith knocked away her feeble attempt at attacking him than he was hurling a spear at her that Looma hadn't noticed he had been carrying in the first place. Another strike against her not-so-common sense.

With deep regret, she had to ignore her pieces of metal, letting them fall to the ground out of her sight. Because if she delayed any longer, she would be impaled by this wooden and spiked projectile. Calling upon the Force with every ounce of energy she had remaining, she collapsed her legs, ducking to the ground below the trajectory of the spear. And somersaulted a few meters out of the way. Conscious of another attack and not wanting to remain vulnerable to it, Looma sprang back to her feet, drawing on her ire to give her strength as well as the Force.

Her violet eyes flashed at the Sith as she glared back at him. No longer caring that she was being so transparent in her feelings. At how he had treated her shards. How he had manipulated her into attacking him. At his interruption to her training. And for making her look at his ugly face when all she wanted to do was be alone and work on her skills in preparation for the possibility of finding a new master. It was all his fault for shredding all her hard work in trying to control her emotions and make them work with her not against her. If it wasn't for him, she wouldn't have acted so rashly. Her rage had clouded her own very real culpability in the matter.

Looma reached out a hand, pulling onto the Force, feeding on her rage. She found the man's body, touched it with the Force. Came up against his powerful barriers. But she persisted in trying to grasp his throat with an invisible fist, using every bit of energy she had left. Wanting to choke him, to make him pay. Ironically as she had done to her former master when he had told her he was leaving her. The Twi'lek curled her fingers, imagining her hand closing around his windpipe, but not knowing if she was succeeding. Consequences be damned; she was upset and not thinking ahead towards the ramifications of her actions, just as she had several months ago before her personal epiphany.

[Ash]

Diarmuid was surprised that the girl decided to let her legs go limp and she dropped under his spear. It would have been easy to change the trajectory of his own spear, but held back, the corners of his mouth rising ever so slightly.

Like a Minx, the Twi'lek flipped away. He felt her violet eyes glare at him, feeling their intense hatred at him. He also felt something else from her when he deflected the shards away. Man, she was furious at him, but there was nothing wrong with that.

Rather than charge right to where she landed, Diarmuid reached out with the force again, collecting the shards from where he let them down, out of eyesight of the yellow-skinned girl. No sooner had he than she began to grip his windpipe though the force. He could have resisted, but help back just enough for her to get a small grip on him, but not enough to cause any damage.

Diarmuid wondered just how much effort and concentration she was putting into trying to kill him like this. Now would be time for a good lesson: bringing his left hand around, bringing around the metal shards with it, and let them fall into a sharp orbit around the girl, but he gave some room for movement.

It's time you stopped, Looma.

[Mara]

The Twi'lek's confidence swelled a bit as she felt her invisible grip grasp onto something. She was actually making some progress in pinching the breath out of this man, however small it was. And so she pulled still more on the Force, drew in her anger to sustain her. Of course, Looma was also experiencing a one-track mind, closed off by tunnel vision. If she hadn't been, she would have realized that this Sith was just manipulating her again, wanting her to continue, think she was succeeding before dropping some kind of hammer on her.

But then the twisted smile that had been developing across her lips suddenly dropped as she caught movement in her peripheral vision. While she had been busy focused on Force choking this annoyance, he had obviously remained in complete control of himself, not at all hindered by her weak but sustained hold of his throat. Her precious metal shards came up and set to spinning around her head, her body. Essentially trapping her where she was standing. If she tried to move, she would be cut unless she relaxed her pressure on the Sith's neck in order to protect herself. Looma's dreaded rashness had reared its ugly head once again, leaving her vulnerable and blind to outside attack.

He spoke then, his words more of a command than a request. Looma was loathe to listen to him; despite her current situation, she was still angry. But it was beginning to abate, aided by the addition of the danger swirling around her. And she realized that she would only be causing herself more trouble by continuing on. This Sith had won; she had lost. She relaxed her fingers, releasing her grip on his throat and slowly let her arms drop to her sides, avoiding the carousel of metal shards. Took in a deep breath and awaited whatever punishment this man would mete out to her for her reckless actions. Fully believing she deserved it... and hoping that it would not be fatal.