The first duel

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira felt out of place in the Whaladon's cargo hold. He saw other Jedi in the midst of their training, and long before he arrived, the cacophony of thrums of dozens of lightsabers could be heard, swinging, clashing, striking, and so forth.

Anbira was no stranger to a lightsaber. He'd carried one now for seven years, and on more occasions than he could remember, relied upon it to deliver him from destruction. But that was in the face of the Imperial war machine on Felucia. For all their might, stormtroopers and walkers were one thing to deal with. He'd never prepared for the contingency of facing a force adept or Sith in battle. There was simply no way to do this, aside from rigorous practice in kata. Drill was one thing, but experience in a duel was another entirely.

Content to watch for now, Anbira stood at a far wall, hand brushing through his beard as he looked from Jedi to Jedi.

[Abarai Loki]

"The observation lounge is two decks up," the voice came from a boy nearby, "This is a place of sweat and blood."

In his arms was a bundle of wooden swords and sat atop the pile a couple of training remotes. He placed them on the floor and rose again to his full, and rather limited height, eyes falling at last upon the bearded stranger. A tilt of his head, allowing the boy to survey him down his nose, at length he spoke again.

"You. You're the gibberish-speaking pilot."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

With a thin smile, Anbira detached himself from the wall, approaching the diminuitive Jedi. He stopped, and gave a slight bow.

"And you must be Abarai Loki."

Word traveled fast on a ship of this size, and it didn't take Anbira much listening around to hear infamous words about the no-nonsense Jedi taskmaster.

"I'm here to train. Is there a bias against gibberish-speaking pilots I should know of in advance?"

[Abarai Loki]

The bow did not go unreturned, in greeting Loki gave a curt nod, wandering eyes inspecting him from top to bottom. Then, disregarding his question, said:

"You already have my name. Grant me yours, and we shall see to your training."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

"My name's Anbira Hicchoru."

He paused, looking beyond Loki a bit in thought. Adding the title Jedi Knight seemed tacky and redundant in this place. Returning his attention to Loki, he continued.

"I have the unique problem of no shortage of lightsaber combat, but lack any practical experience in a saber duel. I'm here to rectify that."

[Abarai Loki]

"You are not alone in your inexperience, Anbira Hicchoru. The lightsaber was almost shunted from existance. Owning one was a privilage but having another with which to cross blades... a gift."

There was an immediate appreciation in finding someone with a desire for self-improvement, it was a concept close to the boy's heart and something he deeply understood. Anbira's attire, a hodgepodge of traditional robing and Imperial armour, was a source of much interest for Loki and after another cursory glance, addressed him with a note of recognition.

"You are a soldier. Tell me about your combat experience."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

It was something he was becoming used to explaining, so the stigma of doing so was dulled.

"Prior to my, awakening, I was an enlisted trooper in Imperial Recon. Four total years of service, one active year of combat duty with the Felucia garrison."

He paused, to see if Loki had any questions of this before continuing.

[Abarai Loki]

"One year," he mused, wrestling with disappointment. Anbira's account of his service was spartan, for if there was one time he craved detail... he would not push the issue.

"Felucia. I do not know it. Show me your weapon."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira presented his saber forward, holding the weapon horizontally for the younger Jedi to inspect. Unlike some sabers, the aesthetics of Anbira's weapon were spartan and brutalist, as if he had put the thing together entirely from salvage and stolen items of opportunity, which was true. It was, however, clean and showing a good amount of care going into its upkeep.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki mirrored Anbira, pairing their lightsabers for inspection. His weapon was, by comparison, entirely minimal with a smooth surface and no awkward protruding activation plates or frequency dials. It was exactly thirty centimeters long with a smaller girth to accomodate his grip, the emitter was sunken, and spanning half the length of the hilt was a series of small intricate characters engraved lovingly into the metal.

"Our lightsabers tell a story. A Jedi carries his weapon through life, and it is in turn shaped by his life, as he is shaped by it. You are a resourceful man, Anbira Hicchoru. A survivor."

He looked up with a glimmer in his eyes:

"Show me."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

A moment of hesitation appeared in Anbira's expression, but a non-corporeal voice filled his ears.

"Size matters not. Forgotten, have you?"

Caring not to respond to the ethereal reminder, Anbira drew back, squaring his stance as he brought his weapon to bear in a hold high over his head, the blue blade sparking to life with the clarity of a thunderbolt.

Trusting in the force and eschewing his doubts, Anbira brought his weapon down in a decisive overhanded strike, with enough force to shake anybody who cared to deflect it. It was a tenet of Djem So, a technique he knew by fundamentals but not by experience.

[Abarai Loki]

A flash of blue in his icy gaze, Loki's lightsaber sprung forth. In a smart quarter turn he avoided the brutal slash and, blades stroking, allowed his weapon to snake around that of his opponent. Now he applied strength and forced Anbira's lightsaber down, using its own momentum, and at some point during the angry sizzling duet, his direction changed. Released like an arrow, the seering tip of his blade lunged for Anbira's throat.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Surprised at the deft redirection of his weapon, Anbira sprung into reaction. Rather than parry or block, he moved with the redirection, sliding his blade to the side, drawing it up, and with a quarter step around, he pivoted at the hip to drive a second attack, which would either swat Loki's blade aside, or end this duel quickly. Counter-attack always. Don't bother defending or dodging. The best defense is a good offense.

[Abarai Loki]

The advance of Loki's blade ended to prevent Anbira removing an arm. Instead he allowed his opponent's strength to run in its course, redirecting his blade, and then again he took control. In an instant, his weapon came full circle over his head for a decapitating blow from the opposite side.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Unable to recover in time to swat down Loki's strike, Anbira knelt low to let the blade pass over him. The stink of ozone melded with another smell as a few scant inches of Anbira's mane were severed by Loki's blade, and fluttered to the ground with a smoky trail. Inverting the handle of his saber, Anbira rose in a sweeping uppercut, which he righted again at the apex to deliver another forceful chop, both strikes carrying enough force to clear his enemy from his center.

[Abarai Loki]

The uppercut was a smart move but too clumsy to throw the boy off balance, and in his heavy offense, Anbira had provided him a critical opening. A sharp pivot came with the close of his last attack, bringing him dangerously close to his opponent and his sweeping uppercut, it passed his ear with a rush of air. Their shoulders brushed as he completed a second turn, bringing him full circle behind Anbira, and now pressed back-to-back, Loki folded his weapon in his hands and delivered a reverse stab intent on piercing the Jedi's heart.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira saw the pivot, but his weight was already committed to the force of his uppercut. There would be no way for him to recover and counter the backstrike. Rather than attempt and fail, he moved with the momentum forward, rolling his shoulder into a tumble to carry him a body's distance from the boy Jedi. Quick up to his feet, he reignited his saber, squaring his guard and holding the blade at center, angled forward. Inwardly, he cursed his loss of momentum, and his inability to push a counterattack in the scant moment the boy had shown his back to him.

Now they were again facing off, this time on Loki's terms.

[Abarai Loki]

"So you can dodge."

The tone in Loki's voice suggested he could very well have been giving a lecture on corporate banking, but beneath that cool surface he felt his entire body quiver with anticipation. It coursed through him like electricity and took a gargantuan degree of control to prevent it surfacing; a turn in his lips, a light in his eyes. Months had passed since his last real challenge, and whether or not Anbira's swordsmanship would slake his hunger it would surely, at least, provide a welcome snack. He took note of his posture.

"Djem So. A novice duelist would think twice before utilizing such an aggressive style in combat. Clearly, you are not without confidence."

He took a step and lightsabers crashed, the distance between the duelists closed in a heartbeat. Anbira's blade had not parried his attack but instead Loki had brought his weapon to bear upon it in a bid to test himself against his opponent and his mighty strength.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

"It would seem wrong to make a habit of it."

Anbira showed the barest of smirks, almost unnoticed through his thick beard. His long hair, now more disheveled, cast a few errant strands over his face. He gave a curt shake of his head to cast his locks to the side, never taking his eyes off Loki.

"I've had a long time to study for the exam, let's say."

Which was true. He knew the theory of Djem So extensively. This was the very first time he could run the experiment, so to speak.

Eager to meet the challenge, Anbira chopped forward to intercept Loki's strike. He already knew enough from what he'd seen that it would be instantly unwise to underestimate the Jedi on account of age or stature. His ears echoed with a million admonitions from Master Yoda of such hubris. He rooted his center, keeping a strong base as he pressed on with the aid of the Force. He knew that's exactly what his opponent would also do. The show of strength did not disappoint at all.

If nobody in the hangar was watching the duel before, they certainly were now. A wide semi-circle of various Jedi students and other bystanders was gathering, giving plenty of space out of respect, but unable to tear themselves away from the two duelists, pressed into the crush of locked lightsabers. The plasma blades, unyielding to each other but unable to budge, screamed and crackled against each other, singing protestations that seemed to come from the souls of each fighter.

"You must know by my style, I can't abide a stalemate."

Losing an inch against Loki, he grimaced, turning into a smile.

"My instinct is to attack. You paint a difficult target."

Repositioning his center, Anbira righted the balance again. Then, considering his position relative to Loki's, and the capabilities of reach, he pushed forward with his rear bracing leg, stepping forward into a press kick he hoped would find his opponent's center, break the stalemate, and potentially put him to the ground, allowing a coup de grace stroke.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki reacted, accepting the brunt of the blow in order to keep sabers locked until the last moment, and they broke. So that was the extent of his strength. Where he had poured all his power into holding his opponent at bay, blade to blade, Anbira yet had the capacity to right himself and deliver such a crushing blow. The force of the kick lifted the smaller Jedi off balance, and he twisted to minimalise its impact, forward foot now falling to the rear. There was not a flinch but the slightest flaring of the nostrils indicated a shortness of breath and the inevitable stabbing pain that accompanied it.

He had lost ground to his opponent and found himself pushed backwards in full anticipation of the next onslaught. He would weather it, accepting his power, and in doing so gain an understanding of Anbira's abilities with a display of absolute confidence in his own.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Again, the initiative. Anbira didn't waste a scrap of it. On the heels of his forward momentum from the press kick breakout, he took another stride with an over-the-shoulder slash that he telgraphed fully, cocking back nearly to his heels to sling forward a furious chop that had little chance of hitting the very nimble Loki, but a very good chance of convincing the other Jedi to move, preferably to his left. True to form, his blade cut nothing but air - and the deck plating where Loki stood a fraction of a second prior, gashing the durasteel in a shower of sparks as Anbira drew upwards for a follow-up horizontal slash.

[Abarai Loki]

The pace in Anbira's attacks had quickened, and there was a snappiness in his precise sweeping strikes that Loki found aesthetically agreeable, but his technique remained predictable. A smart hop, a tuck of the knees, and the lightsaber swooped under him with a tuneful hum. Upon his descent, Loki flicked his wrists anti-clockwise, bringing his weapon down in a full crescent arc to sever his opponent's hands.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira saw the counter at the last moment, drawing his slash inward to meet blade on blade, and to baffle Loki's attempt to disarm him, so to speak. The trouble was that his leverage was poor, and Loki's was not. There was only so much resistance he could give before the saber wrenched free from his hands, tumbling away as it deactivated.

He had less than an instant to settle on a course of action to avoid defeat. He could break to retrieve his weapon, but Loki's agility outclassed him. It wouldn't work.

One hand threw a wall of force in Loki's direction that he hoped would at least catch the Jedi off balance, as he spun around with the other to draw his saber back to him. Timing would be close.

[Abarai Loki]

There was no escape. Anbira's counter-attack was every bit as resourceful as Loki had hoped. It lifted him into the air like a passing wave of water but rather than suffer the humiliation of a fall, Loki flipped and landed on his feet with feline grace. He saw his opponent, vulnerable and disarmed, and charged.

Pity insults the warrior. Doubt ends him. Loki would show Anbira the height of respect and skewer him like a womp rat.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Time seemed to slow as Anbira commanded his saber to him. The weapon dragged on the floor, then went airborne. Eternity. It righted itself, landing in his palm. Still, taking forever. He turned, activating the blade all in one motion to face his enemy...

...and was met with the tip of a saber halted just shy of his neck. Anbira froze in his path, the only motion being his heaving chest and heavy breathing.

It was over.

[Abarai Loki]

They were still, statuesque as the momentum of battle unravelled, crashing around them in the silence. The light left Loki's eyes, his features softened; the beast within smiled. His blade vanished and he retreated a step, then another, until he'd put enough distance between them to offer Anbira a deep bow.

"You are a strong fighter, Anbira Hicchoru."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Silent a moment, Anbira at last deactivated his own blade, easing it to his side as he reciprocated the bow.

"I am in debt to the whims of destiny to fight you when less than my life is at stake. As it stands, I treat this not as defeat, but rather victory deferred."

A smile parted his beard.

"I hope to repeat this often until I'm proven right."

[Abarai Loki]

"Then I hope you are a patient man," he said simply, returning his lightsaber to his hip.

The gathered crowd dispersed and across the room Loki noticed the first of his younglings arrive for their lesson. He came to stand alongside Anbira, and gave him a second appraisal from top to bottom. His eyes narrowed.

"Perhaps, after a millennia of struggle..." he mused in an undertone, then cast his gaze in the direction of the children now collecting wooden sticks, "Until then, lessons begin at zero-nine-hundred sharp."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira's smile slid into a confident smirk, and he clicked his bootheels together at that. It wasn't hard to incite a bit of martial punctuality in the former Recon man, and he appreciated that Loki shared a fondness for a tight schedule.

"Enough time for a brisk run and a spot of breakfast then. I look forward to besting you."

[Abarai Loki]

The following morning saw Loki meditating in the cargo hold. He'd found an empty space and knelt - back straight, hands on thighs - it had been twenty minutes since he'd moved last. This was an irregular sight, for the boy Jedi was not often given to calming excercises due, naturally, to his own exceptional presence of mind. But the night had been long and his sleep broken by dreams. Anbira had appeared to him as a spirit, dressed in a wookiee costume, and had, amongst other things, threatened to "school him like a youngling." Solomon was there too, and had an impressive singing voice. Then his brother appeared, sporting a smoking black scar across his face, and imapled him on his lightsaber. Six times it happened. And six times Loki had woken, gasping, clutching his chest.

Meditation helped purge such troubling images from his mind. And at last he released a soothing sigh and stirred.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

The door chime nearly coincided with the chrono chime signalling 0900. Anbira, true to his word, had concluded his morning run and breakfast, armoring up to come to the cargo bay for what promised to be a stimulating lesson in improved sabership. The young Jedi who'd bested him the other day had awoken his deep hunger for knowledge. He'd discovered that, for all of his knowledge of Djem So, something was as of yet lacking. He eagerly awaited discovering exactly what that might be.

"Good Morning, Loki."

[Abarai Loki]

"Anbira Hicchoru."

He stood, taking note of Anbira's appearance; it seemed that he too was a creature of habit. Loki appreciated such consistency. But he was also contemptuous of small-talk.

"Why were you beaten yesterday?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

He thought about the question, running the duel over in his mind. This was something he'd spent hours doing in the first place.

"I lost leverage over my weapon. In my haste to recover it, I left my center fatally open."

There wasn't any need to sugar-coat his shortcomings. He was here to mend them.

[Abarai Loki]

"You were disarmed because you failed to see beyond the trappings of your own rigid technique."

Here, the boy circled Anbira, measuring him up like a prize bantha. Despite the angular outcroppings of his body armour, it was clear there was an impressive physique underneath it all, granting him a natural strength. Years as a soldier no doubt instilled him with a sense of discipline and endurance. A hand outstretched and he gave his back a nudge to test his posture: he was a bulwark of muscle and bone.

"Why Djem So?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira thought about that question. It was certainly Anakin Skywalker's doing. He'd seen to it that the powerfully-built student would learn a style of fighting that would complement his physique.

"My first technique I learned was Shien, out of practicality. My chances of fighting stormtroopers was far higher than meeting an opponent with a lightsaber, so it made sense in the short term. From there, I was taught Djem So. I have the power and reach for it, and I was taught it was important to completely dominate my enemy."

He looked to Loki, breaking his habit of eyes forward.

"To make them lose the fight before it begins."

[Abarai Loki]

"In theory your reasoning is sound."

In a single fluid motion Loki drew his lightsaber, its blade snapped into being. He raised his weapon and at eye-level he followed the length of the thrumming blade all the way to Anbira's chest, lost in its beauty.

"The art of the lightsaber, however, is far more sophisticated. It is true, a lesser opponent will fall to your first volley of attacks. But to an equal you reveal the secrets of your swordsmanship. This is not a technical weakness but a flaw in your philosophy."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira was curious. He expected to find some fault with his application of Djem So, but Loki was instead focusing on something greater.

"You would suggest a tactic beyond seeking to finish your opponent immediately?"

[Abarai Loki]

"By their nature, engagements of lightsaber combat are brief unless the duelists are absolute equals. But before trying to defeat the enemy you must first seek to know your enemy."

It was a principle of combat he was sure Anbira was familiar with from military service. Perhaps he believed a Jedi sought to end conflict as peacefully and efficiently as possible, disregarding the reality that Jedi are first and foremost warriors, and regardless of philosophy a warrior strives to win. His weapon flourished, whirling through a sequence of basic slashes.

"Combat is finite. A Jedi who knows the techniques allows his enemy to exhaust his options. And in the end, victory is determined by the sharpness of your resolve. Do you understand?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira inferred some meaning from Loki's words and raised an eyebrow.

"Your attempt to stand-off during our last duel. Then it wasn't an impasse at all, but you watched my response to it."

It was a simple concept when spoken aloud, but one that had eluded Anbira for some time. He was impressed by the simplicity and honesty of it.

[Abarai Loki]

"Precisely, and from it I glimpsed hints of your fighting style. It is in your nature to overwhelm your opponent with a succession of broad sweeping strokes, relying on your power to throw the enemy off balance and should he be foolish enough to intercept your blows, victory is almost certain."

He watched him, searching for some sign of recognition to confirm his assumptions. Then he turned and found an empty space near the centre of the room, beckoning Anbira to join him.

"Your technique is quickly read and your attacks leave you at the mercy of a faster swordsman. So you should be patient and play not only to your enemy's weaknesses, but strengths."

Again his weapon raised, pointed at Anbira, and he said, "Tell me then, what kind of swordsman am I?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

"You attack nearly as aggressively as I do, and faster."

Anbira looked at Loki carefully, his face blank as he delved deeply into thought and perception enhanced by the force.

"You seek the path of least resistance, use leverage to give maximum violence to minimum movement. I know by your rhythm of motion you prefer Vaapad, but that alone would be too simplistic to sum you up."

[Abarai Loki]

"You are correct. The Vaapad philosophy is instilled in my blade - the fury of combat - but on principle I cannot abide such a wasteful form. The efficiency of Makashi is more suited to my tastes while the Ataru form lends itself perfectly to my considerable speed."

His weight shifted suddenly, he drew back with his weapon in hand, and paused as he noticed Anbira reaching for his lightsaber. He raised his gaze to meet the older Jedi and simply shook his head.

"It is time to unlearn bad habits."

And with trademark speed he was on top of him, pitching low with a horizontal slash, a sai tok designed to cut the opponent in half.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

There was barely enough time to distill what Loki said into his head before the young Jedi was on the attack. He dipped his shoulder to invert his saber in time to catch the low swipe, releasing his block without trying to jam Loki or power through his own attack. Rather, he slipped his blade along Loki's, continuing momentum to not only sweep Loki's blade away, but continue in an arc towards his center. The counter was relatively slow, and a bit unsure, but a departure of style from his earlier approaches.

[Abarai Loki]

Anbira's reacted quicker than Loki had anticipated of someone his size. He'd expected him to dodge rather than manage a counter-attack which, despite being somewhat clumsy, had forced him to hop out of its range. By his own standards, it was a rather undignified move, but it was the simplest and most effective option at his disposal. That was a something his opponent needed to understand.

"First, simplicity."

He lunged, driving a basic stab for Anbira's abdomen.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Shedding the rigors of Djem So was an act of supreme mental concentration on Anbira's part. His instinct was to swat Loki's jab to the ground and recover by chopping down at him. He was nearly frozen into inaction when he fluidly shifted his feet at the last moment, pivoting neatly out of the way of Loki's blade to the point that they were nearly standing against each other.

Anbira understood, but still felt some discomfort. At this closeness, he felt his strength wasted, other than to simply brawl. It was going to take a lot of effort to open himself to other possibilities.

[Abarai Loki]

"Now I am truly open to a counter-attack."

He was frozen at the pinnacle of his lunge and glanced down to place emphasis on his own sudden vulnerability.

"My legs, torso, arms, and neck are unprotected. A single decisive blow will end the battle but you are burdened by hesitance."

After a single forward step he spun swiftly and brought his saber down in a diagonal slash towards Anbira's shoulder.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Barely digesting that lesson, Anbira was again chasing Loki to the next one. This time, a little faster to the improvisation. He gave a clockwise pivot to Loki's own clockwise pivot, knocking Loki's spinning strike back with a swat. Constrained into a tight swing, Anbira pushed outward as he made contact, the sudden effect of his reach should be enough to put Loki on his heels.

[Abarai Loki]

The force of the collision sent tremors through Loki's body and, having no resistance to Anbira's strength, he was repelled on faltering feet. After a succession of quick retreating steps he regained his composure and sensing his opponent was eager to proceed with the engagement, he obliged.

It came first as a snappy lunge to offset Anbira's momentum, his lightsaber edging ever closer to his shin then just as quickly... impossibly, faster... the blade retracted and swept low, its tip scoring a U-shaped trail across the cargo bay floor as it rose now on his opponents opposite side and flew for a debilitating strike to the upper arm.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira ceased his advance to ensure the jab wouldn't find a way home, and then had to recover with just barely enough time to bring his own blade over shoulder to protect his flank from the side-swipe. Gritting his teeth at being put on the defensive, Anbira shrugged his blade out of lock, whipping around with a single-handed grasp on his saber to sling a head-level swipe at full reach, bringing himself quickly back into guard so he could close the distance again.

"Your speed is difficult to answer", he conceded, already working on a solution to the problem in his head.

[Abarai Loki]

"Speed is a trick of the eye, Anbira Hicchoru."

After swerving out of Anbira's oppressive reach, Loki fell back, putting enough distance between them so he could watch his opponent advance. In his body language he saw the art of combat: Anbira was changing, he was adapting, growing. The thrill of the fight pumped in Loki's veins again. He raised his weapon, ready.

"And the lightsaber is a symbol. We fight instead with our souls, the mind... our arena."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

He started again, breaking into a half dozen strides to close on Loki once more, the tip of his lightsaber's blade dragging behind as he feinted to sling the weapon into one of his signature broad crashing slashes, but instead snapped his wrist and pressed forward, tightening his attack into a frontal stab that he worked into a shorter swipe, changing his range, the speed of his attack, and his coverage. Wide to narrow to wide again, changing always.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki's eyes smiled. It was time for him to adapt. A cautious backstep to evade the feigned swing, then his lightsaber sprung into action, first right and then left, looping in a tight figure of eight. There was a sudden strength behind his weapon which greatly surpassed the natural limits of a fourteen year old boy. He accomodated Anbira's new strategy with the swift finesse of Makashi: swatting aside his torrent of attacks with sharp, powerful strokes, becoming steadfast; the rock to weather the storm. The duel had become a contest of attrition, and victory a matter of time, so Loki watched and he waited.

Anbira followed his broader strokes with short snappy strikes to throw him off balance, he sought to wear him down and it would work if he didn't act soon enough. An opening. He dodged an incisive slash to the throat and saw Anbira draw back for another deep swing. A whisper of air and he slipped under his arm. Now behind his opponent, Loki made one quick turn to come about face and brought his weapon to bear down upon his shoulder...

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Deep-set into his Djem So power strike, Anbira drew back at the sudden flanking, pulling his blade back over his head so that it met Loki's strike. Holding fast, Anbira dipped a shoulder, pivoted to face while inverting his hold on his weapon, and gave Loki enough push to break the deadlock.

Now working out of Shien, Anbira dropped his inverted saber to his side, with the blade trailing behind him, and stalked towards his opponent again. When he struck, the motions were less brutal, but now faster and with a feral side to them - nasty slinging swipes and uppercuts that often came with a following backslash. Anbira kept his center wide open, daring Loki to try for it. His whole demeanor seemed to change, the passion in his eyes had become a thousand-yard stare, as if he was playing out some battle that happened years ago.

[Abarai Loki]

The surprise of the counter-attack rapidly diminished as Loki once again found himself on the defensive, and fighting a very different opponent. Anbira's movements were fast but he telegraphed them by positioning his blade far from his centre, his attacks seemed erratic and unpredictable. It was a very strange technique to use against another lightsaber.

First, Loki tested the water with a thrust and a couple of feigned swings, each time Anbira's lightsaber lashed out with a scintillating crack, and then was once again tucked away behind him. Loki scowled. He would not be toyed with like this...

"If you intend to fight with a hidden blade I will draw it out like poison from a wound."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira stopped in his tracks, and deactivated his saber.

"I..."

Closing his eyes, he brought a hand up to run from his forehead down to his beard, trying to clear his mind completely, and to get rid of something old and simmering.

"Apologies, Loki. A moment, please?"

Stepping away from the center of the sparring area, he made his way to a table that had been set up with water flasks for the training younglings and other students. Anbira took one, dousing his forehead with some of it, as he took in a mouthful. He leaned against the wall momentarily, staring upwards at the utility lights that illuminated the cargo bay.

[Abarai Loki]

From the centre of the room Loki watched him with mild curiosity. He was a queer one, to end the duel so suddenly. Everything about him seemed different somehow, his posture seemed to have sunk under some unseen weight, and the fight drained from his heart. He returned his lightsaber to his hip and crossed the room to join him by the refreshment table. First, he waited, Anbira had asked for a moment, then his eyes narrowed in scrutiny.

"You are not fatigued. Do you require medical assistance?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

He shook his head.

"For a moment, I felt I was somewhere else."

How could he explain that? That, sometimes, he felt like he hadn't really left Felucia at all. Sometimes he kept replaying his little personal war in his head. It came through in his dreams, little bits he saw when he was awake brought him back to the sights and sounds of death in that place. It was like some part of the Force kept bringing him back, intent on showing him a lesson there he had until this point not learned.

[Abarai Loki]

"Where?" he asked, with complete disregard for any sense of privacy or tact.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

He paused, reluctant at first to talk about it, then thought the better of it. Maybe, by speaking of it aloud, it would help to dispel whatever held him fast to that place.

"Felucia."

Not looking at Loki, he continued to look above him.

"It felt like I was back there, during the dark times."

[Abarai Loki]

Loki took some time to mull over Anbira's words. He folded his arms, eyes down, and recalled from memory a conversation he'd had long ago.

"My master," he began, with a hint of uncertainty, "He said a warrior can be afflicted by dark memories. That he carries them as a burden to counter the weight of guilt. He told me that, even when the flow of blood has been stemmed, a warrior's battle may never end."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

What Loki said had direct resonance to Anbira's experience on the matter. He nodded at that.

"It seems he was no stranger to the feeling, then."

Not ready yet to talk about his years alone in any visceral detail, Anbira detached himself from the wall, shaking a bit of the moisture on his face and hair away, and addressing Loki directly.

"It passes. Just some moments, one can feel less than one's self."

[Abarai Loki]

"I see."

His expression, his voice, his eyes, they betrayed nothing. That look of his, the vacancy in the eyes, he remembered it now, and inwardly he made a vow to watch Anbira for signs of further troubling behaviour. He gave a parting glance to the unoccupied sparing area then returned his attention to Anbira.

"Perhaps you wish to clear your head."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

It was passed.

"I'm fine."

Squaring his shoulders, Anbira's sense for the fight returned to him.

"As I last recall, you seemed a bit put off by my Shien, yes?"

[Abarai Loki]

"It is a peculiar style to use in a duel. My experience against it is limited."

That was to say non-existant. Certainly the art of Shien was not unknown to him but it was unheard of to use it to any effect against another lightsaber. Maybe that was what made it dangerous. He regarded Anbira a moment longer then his hand went for his lightsaber.

"But I can beat it."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

All indicators of his previous lapse gone, Anbira turned, his saber-hand facing away from Loki as the blade snapped to life again.

"Show me."

With a smile bordering on confidence, Anbira crouched, his free hand coming up in front of him, fingers outstretched.

[Abarai Loki]

In one deft motion, he drew his weapon with a piercing snap-hiss and guided its tip to brush the length of Anbira's face. There was no real intent behind the attack but it would give him something to think about.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

By now, one thing Anbira had down to muscle memory was knowing exactly how far Loki's reach extended. His feet remained fixed, his torso dipped back like a reed in the wind, his face close enough to the tip of the blade for Anbira to feel it's warmth. Swinging through his hip to his shoulders, the older Jedi countered with a whipping under-handed slash intended to intercept at Loki's saber arm. If the younger Jedi wanted to take the bait and try for his middle, Anbira was all too eager to remind him that he was out-ranged.

[Abarai Loki]

A twist from the hips and the lightsaber soared safely skywards, Loki's arm still intact. Anbira's confidence was palpable and his stance was telling; the mind games had begun. And while dueling a confident Shien master was unfamiliar territory for Loki, he knew only too well the power of psychological combat. He would play Anbira's game, but on his own terms.

"I warned you I would draw your blade out."

Nimble-footed and swift of hand, Loki prodded at Anbira's defenses, dancing in and out of his reach with a chain of simple Ataru maneuvers. He was the mongoose to Anbira's snake, playing to his opponent's strengths, tempting every venomous strike in anticipation of that one wrong move.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira's intent was to give something to Loki that would have the boy Jedi's ears pinned back, and compel him to put in a decisive strike. To his annoyance, the boy had no plans of that, and was instead skirmishing at distance, no doubt hoping to draw a mistake out of him. Anbira opted for more reckless, crossing over after an attepted strike at Loki's middle, rather than returning his blade back to his unusual behind-back open form. Fully pivoted away from Loki at the hip, he partially showed his back to him, ostensibly looking to wind up into another combo-breaking Djem So cleave.

[Abarai Loki]

It was time to close the gap in their reach. In the interlude between attacks, Loki took flight. He soared high into a somersault over Anbira's head and in passing aimed a strike at his shoulder.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira dropped his center of gravity, turning in even further as Loki took flight. From here, it only took an ounce of energy to pivot backwards into a tumble, using his shifted weight to roll back on a shoulder, righting himself in time to again bring his saber front and center from a crouch, facing Loki at close distance. From here, Anbira cut upwards at his opponent in a tight swing. They were nearly against each other.

[Abarai Loki]

Their proximity changed everything. Discarding the acrobatics, Loki returned to the violent simplicity of the second form of lightsaber combat. The immediate pressure from Anbira required him to think fast on his feet and at the same time aided in setting up his next attack. He twisted swiftly to evade the blade's trajectory, hiding his weapon from view as he turned it in his hand. An anti-clockwise rotation brought the lightsaber first over then under, and as he came full circle the blade reappeared, rising swiftly between his opponent's legs intent on splitting him in twain.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Drawn high with his attempted strike, he was nearly undone by being off balance for Loki's reprisal, which came from below swiftly. Nearly falling forward, Anbira jammed Loki's strike at the ground, their blades both throwing sparks all over the floor as he broke the deadlock with a rough shoulder check, using his own forward-leaning center of gravity as a ram to dislodge the assault.

[Abarai Loki]

There was enough force behind the impact, shy of twice his bodyweight, to send Loki staggering away almost lost for balance. His hands were empty. The last blazing blue ember of his lightsaber blade snuffed out on the floor and his weapon rolled lazily towards Anbira's boot. His face creased with indignation and eyes narrowed.

On some level Loki was aware of his feet as they doubled back beneath him, and while his eyes were fixed on the seering tip of his opponent's blade, his mind was elsewhere. The rolling hilt accelerated across the floor and launched itself into the air in a wide arc, boomeranging back into the heart of the battle. And with an angry hiss it spat a column of blue fire to intercept Anbira's weapon.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira reached out with the force, intercepting the approaching lightsaber, and with a battle of wills against Loki, he managed to use just enough of the weapon's own forward momentum to keep it heading towards him - only with the hilt leading the way. Giving Loki a backhanded swat to keep his mind on staying away from Anbira's own weapon, the Felucian hermit snatched Loki's own blade from the air, closing the distance to Loki in three strides to place each blade at Loki's neck in a scissor-like crossover.

Breath heavy on his voice, Anbira nodded to the young duelist.

"Yield."

[Abarai Loki]

There was a long silence in which the youngster refused to concede defeat, and instead, he sought to burn Anbira with the fire in his eyes. His entire body convulsed in the aftermath of the fight; shoulders rising and falling with every hissing breath, hands trembling in memory of Anbira's relentless blows, fingers twitched, longing to hold that which he prized most.

Dignity in defeat. The wise words of his master were lost to the furious ringing in his head. It was the roar of the unfinished battle, coarsing through his veins, turning a maelstrom in his mind. And how he hungered for victory. No longer could he bring himself to look upon the sight of his lightsaber bent to the will of the enemy. He closed his eyes and remembered his masters voice; deep, clipped, and proud. Dignity in defeat. He bowed his head.

"I yield."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

The sound of tandem extinguishing lightsabers greeted Loki's ears as Anbira switched both weapons off. Still slightly winded from the fury of their duel, he stood silent for a moment, turning Loki's weapon over in his hand and admiring it's craftsmanship. It was, like his, austere and simple, but clearly a product of an intense mind, obsessed with the craft of his most important instrument. There was not a micron of material that wasn't intended to be exactly where it was. In Anbira's mind, he imagined the young duelist not so much building a lightsaber, but rather finding a lightsaber in an object, and cutting what was not needed away until only perfection remained.

He extended the hilt toward Loki.

"Now, we are even."

[Abarai Loki]

He took his lightsaber and held onto it at his side. Anbira's words stung, the salt in the wound, and he found it difficult not to scoff at his claim. He took a long deep breath and it felt like his old self was starting to return. When he spoke again the signs of fatigue were subdued and he turned his gaze back on Anbira with utmost indifference.

"Anbira Hicchoru, surely you must understand that is unacceptable. A warrior does not seek equals. It is not enough just to fight. We fight to win."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

"I don't speak of what is acceptible, only what is."

Finding his energy again with the passing of the duel, he returned his saber to his belt, and gave Loki a knowing smile.

"Recall what I said yesterday. My defeat was simply victory deferred. We agree on this principle, I think."

Anbira liked the spirit of this young Jedi. Though different in many ways, they shared the same warrior's virtue.

"Perhaps some other day, one of us will again tip the balance of victory in our favor. I have no doubt we'll each bring our best to bear."

[Abarai Loki]

Loki listened intently. How refreshing it was to hear a Jedi speak such words, to know another possessed the warrior's pride, a man who revelled in the art of combat. Absently, he thumbed the fine markings on his weapon.

"When that day comes, Anbira Hicchoru, perhaps you will be faster."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

The corners of Anbira's eyes tightened as he smiled, extending a hand to his sparring partner.

"And perhaps you will be stronger."

[Abarai Loki]

Reluctantly, he took Anbira's hand and allowed him to do the shaking.

"That is but a matter of time," he said, and broke the handshake, "And if you seek to match my speed, first concern yourself with shaking loose the burden of guilt. It is dead weight."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira delved into a bit of introspection at Loki's words. Is that what he'd felt? Guilt? Perhaps it had been so all-permeating that Anbira had simply not assigned a name to it.

He gave a reluctant nod.

"It's not an easy thing, fighting and killing men you once felt were like your brothers. I think a part of me hoped there would be redemption for them, like there was for me."

He struggled for the words, realizing this was probably the first time he'd actually discussed the dilemmas of his Felucian past.

"Why was I saved, and not them? It's a difficult question for me to ask, and all I can hear is the echo of me asking it. There's guilt, I suppose you'd be correct in that. Perhaps there's no further wisdom for me to find in dwelling on it."

[Abarai Loki]

"No, there is absolutely no worth in harboring such needless regret."

In truth, Loki hadn't expected such an outpour from the hardened ex-serviceman. It had been his intention to plant the seed, just a thought, drawing on the wisdom and experience of his old master to help Anbira overcome his burden. Instead, he was forthcoming about his experience on Felucia and the unseen mark it had left on him - what Loki had done to warrant such a display of trust was a mystery to him. Nevertheless, he would humour the conversation.

"Questioning the past will not provide answers for the future, Anbira Hicchoru, my master told me that. He said a warrior must be of sound mind to weather the days of war and that he must find clarity in his violence. A warrior's resolve must be sharper than any blade if it is to pierce the shroud of doubt."

"In short, you are attached to your old comrades. Don't be. You are a Jedi and cannot afford such a weakness."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

It was a stern bit of advice that Anbira knew he needed, but he had yet to find the proper application for it.

"I suppose first and foremost on my tasks is to find a way to let them go, then."

He gave a slightly wistful expression to Loki.

"I am yet unsure if I'm the worse for needing your sage advice, or you're the worse for giving it. I expect there's some tragedy in hearing someone as young as yourself to eschew those thoughts. That's a cruelty of this war I suppose I have only now taken into consideration.

Until again, Loki."

And with that, he turned to leave the sparring area. He had much to think about.