Clash of Powers (Telan v. Khendon, Friendly)

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon clenched his wrist and stretched the intricate muscles of his hand. He applied a band of tight tape, wrapping his fingerless gloves securely on. The Imperator shot his eyes up and looked around the locker room, the cold, harsh gray of row after row of storage cubes greeting his gaze. His face contorted into a smile and he gently shook his head from side to side.

The weather inside the station was warm, enough so that Khendon wore only a crimson, ribbed, sleeveless shirt with Federacy logo emblazoned in black and training pants. His shins had a light layer of padded armor on them, however, the knifes’ of his feet were only covered in tape. His gloves were flexible enough that he could hold a hilt or grasp an opponent, however, they were padded enough that his blow’s damage would be stifled.

The warrior stood, the cool, metallic floor chilling his feet. He went through the door and entered the small training room.

[Telan Desaria]

" Imperator Sevon."

The voice was cold and distant but not lacking in perception. Across a wide black mat stood a the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Navy seriously out of uniform. Instead of the pristine white uniform so common in holos across the galaxy, Grand Admiral Desaria stood clad black parachute pants and a sleeveless white shirt showing lithe but proportioned muscles.

Held in front of the Grand Admiral was a staff of polished steel jutting out from a handle ornately crafted, doubtless by hand. It was not a modern weapon at all, but it had held its own in the wars of eons passed. Like the Jedi's favoured arm, it was a sabre.

Desaria brought the sword to his face in a salute of olde. " Greetings."

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon smiled and gave a short bow from his waist, “Hello, Telan,” he said smoothly. His face broke in a lopsided grin. The Imperator’s eyes dashed to the saber held in the Admiral’s hand, “I see you’re ready.”

The warrior’s muscles rippled as he extended a single hand towards a nearby sword rack. Pulled by an invisible force a blade flew from its sheath and slid into the waiting hands of the Imperator, still screaming its metallic song.

The weapon was a majestic piece. Both precise and perfect, it was a rare find. The blade bent slightly towards the center and the end formed into a neat curve. It was a katana. However, it wasn’t just any katana, the weapon had been given to Khendon by S’ilancy as a wedding gift.

A gentle hum emitted from the hilt of the weapon as it projected an invisible field around its blade. “I know it looks sharp,” remarked Khendon, “that’s because it is. Don’t worry, it’s projecting a protective field.” The Imperator brought his own blade in a salute then grasped the weapon with both hands. The metallic hilt felt good to his exposed fingers and the blade’s weight fell perfectly.

Khendon brought the weapon into a high right guard perpendicular to the ground. His left hand was bent slightly across his chest while his right elbow was out and stressed. The weapon’s guard ended at the Imperator’s chin. “Shall we?”

[Telan Desaria]

" Of course."

The Grand Admiral noted his opponent's footing, stance, and grip. He was going to be aggressive, of that there was no doubt. With both hands on the blade he would have decreased control with increased strength. Desaria opted for an older, fittingly regal style - one hand grasped the handle, the other perched itself on his hip.

" En garde."

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon gave a stiff nod and drew in a deep breath. With that he let go a ferocious war cry and leapt forward—literally. He flew through the air several feet off the ground and brought his blade down diagonally towards the Admiral’s shoulder. His weapon screeched as it cut the air and shimmered in the warm light.

[Telan Desaria]

The instant the Imperator leapt from the ground, Desaria had no doubt he had lost. He had no risen to the top of the tree by deluding himself. He could, however, delay the inevitable and make a good showing of himself.

The hour of introspection had passed.

The Admiral held the sabre in his right hand and twirled about as to be out of the incoming slash. One deft movement of his be-weaponed hand brought his sword into contact with his opponent's. Were he a man of better vision, he might have seen sparks.

The first perry had come and gone. He seized the initative while it stood before him and and whipped his own sowrd into the air. With precision of a trained elite, the blade headed towards the Imperator's exposed side.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon’s face contorted in concentration as his first blow was parried. His muscles tensed and stretched, releasing their stored energy in a sudden burst of power.

The warrior spun on his left heel, bringing his body forward towards the Admiral. The momentum of the turn fell in line with his hips twisting and enforced the downward snap stroke of his weapon.

A shower of small flames danced from the two contacting blades as they slid against each other. Although Khendon’s weapon was contained in a protective field, it was clear that the cell powering it was strained.

With the rapidity of a trained fighter the Imperator struck. First, Khendon applied force to his blade, causing additional tears to shed from the weapons. Quickly and adeptly he attacked the shin of his opponent with the knife of his right foot, sending a low snap kick flying.