Power, Tempered

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Fondor

"Knight Vissica, you are being recalled to Imperial Center."

The hologram flickered before the Selonian's eyes. In the background, the endless bustle of shipyard activity could be seen in the distance. This was not part of the plan, not at all. A throaty rumble built up in time with her disagreement.

"Baastian Cain's orders are clear."

Her emphasis timed with a canting of her head, as if to physically beat the truth into the human facing her now.

"I am to await his return from Zeltros on Fondor. We have work."

Which was clear. The whisperings of malcontents and saboteurs on the major shipyard planet had demanded action. And while Vissica was on their scent, the scope of the problem had not yet been dealt with. The officer on the other end of the line made a curious face at the mention of Knight Cain.

"It appears there has been a mistake. Your recall orders come from Knight Cain, ma'am. He awaits you on Imperial Center now."

What?? Anger flashed in the Selonian's eyes at the lapse of communication and sudden change of plan. She'd not even been informed of a resolution yet on Zeltros, and now her superior had changed everything. There was no use in taking it out on a messenger. Stiffening, the Selonian Knight nodded gravely.

"I will not delay in answering his summons."

Imperial Center
Next day

She'd not bothered to communicate with him directly. If that had been his intention, he would have delivered his message himself. Vissica bided her time, but now that she was back at the Imperial Citadel, she wasted not a second. Her long, purposeful strides chewed up distance down the brutalist corridors of the Imperial fortress. Stormtroopers and officers alike kept a wide berth as she drew a bead on the door ahead of her. She could already feel his presence just beyond. The heavy double doors parted in a whoosh and she did not hesitate to pass the threshold and stand before Baastian Cain as if no time had elapsed since the previous day.

"Explain."

Right to the point, Matatek Sel Vissica looked down to the human, awaiting exactly what caused the plan to deviate so dramatically.

[Baastian Cain]

Baastian Cain stood in a closed observation booth, one of several overlooking an enormous gymnasium. Below, two young trainees in loose-fitting kits stood on a raised sparring platform, a human male and a Zabrak female, facing each other with shimmering white blades under the blank, critical eye of an Arkanian training master. At his direction, the two teenagers clashed together in a fury of sparks and plasma. It was a short exchange, no more than four strokes on each side before one of the training sabers found a stinging mark, and a shout from the master sent both combatants back to their corners. A few spoken adjustments, and the students were back at it again, drilling with military precision.

"Knight Vissica," Baastian said. "Glad to see you made it back to base. Sorry I couldn't meet you on Fondor. I ran into some unexpected resistance on Zeltros."

The human Knight beckoned the two-meter Selonian to join him. Of course he knew she'd have no eyes for the match below until he had answered her to her satisfaction. He'd learned within minutes of meeting her for the first time that she had little use for anything but the most forthright communication.

"The operation was compromised by one of our own, an adept we had tapped for evaluation as an initiate. He chose to help the Marrs escape, with the aid of a Jedi Master. We finally have concrete proof that the Jedi Order is violating the terms of our treaty with the Alliance."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

The array of whiskers on the Selonian's face stiffened in the face of news that Knight Cain delivered. Her previous irritation over the inexplicable deviation and lack of communication evaporated immediately. And yet...

"Our treaty lies with the Alliance. We have brokered nothing with the Jedi."

Vissica was certain Baastian knew this. Her black eyes flicked left and right beneath her pinched brow. Comprehension arrived and the Selonian rolled up her flexible spine to sit a little taller.

"You intend to use this to force the Alliance to make plain their relationship with the terrorists?"

Understanding appeared on the Selonian warrior's face as a brief opening and closing of her mouth. A rumble in her chest issued as she considered the strategy. The idea seemed well and good, although lofty for her pragmatic tastes.

"I do not trust the Alliance to speak plainly either way. They do not share our conviction to truth."

[Baastian Cain]

"No, they don't," Baastian agreed. "But the Jedi do."

The two youths flew together once again, and this time they achieved a dozen strokes before the Zabrak drew her blade across the human boy's hand. Unconsciously, Baastian rubbed at his own right wrist as he remembered the steely resolve of Zem Vymes in the metro tunnel under Zeltros.

"Or at least some of them do. I wasn't sure about that before, but I'm certain now."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Vissica's eyes narrowed again. Baastian, as most humans were wont to do, was dawdling dangerously on the edge of useless conversation.

"What do you mean..." she impelled him to elaborate in a low monotone.

"How can the Jedi speak truth if they are our enemy? We are the truth."

It seemed simple to the Selonian. Two truths could not vie to be Truth. There was Truth, and there was Not.

[Baastian Cain]

For once, Vissica's starkly dualistic view of the universe lined up perfectly with Corsec propaganda doctrine. Baastian knew there were others among the Knights who would be disturbed to hear any good word spoken for Jedi, but he was a realist. There was no advantage in diminishing your enemy. It only led you to underestimate them, just as he had done on Zeltros.

"You can believe in the truth and still find yourself on the wrong side of it," Baastian said. "The Jedi are trapped by their circumstances. They have been since the Uprising. Once they were led astray by a power-hungry Council. Now they've been co-opted by a Rebel government."

He folded his arms and leaned close to the glass, no longer paying attention to the bout below. "I don't know whether they believe the Alliance really is the Republic they used to fight for, or if they simply think they have no alternative. But they have conviction. And that makes them more dangerous than we ever imagined."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

"I don't see what difference it makes."

An impatient pink tongue flicked up to draw across the Selonian's upper lip before retreating.

"They are our enemy. Regardless of the politics, their stronghold sits far in Alliance territory. You respect our enemy, Knight Cain. Only a fool lowers a weapon out of hubris."

Vissica crossed her arms in a high and ponderous motion.

"But respect will not defeat the Jedi. I feel like a pup begging for scraps at the heels of elder sisters with all of this talk and no enemy to face. I am no politician, I am a warrior."

[Baastian Cain]

Baastian couldn't help but smile. He turned it away from his comrade, lest she think he was mocking her, but when it came to conviction, Matatek Sel Vissica could pace an entire legion of Jedi. Selonians were groomed from birth, and before, to serve a solitary function for the good of the den, which by some miraculous bit of sociobiological wizardry Vissica had expanded to the whole of the Empire. You would be better off trying to argue a supernova back into its constituent star than to sway the Selonian Knight from her purpose. There were times that Baastian envied such simplicity.

"Yes, you are," he agreed. "I regret having to pull you off the Fondor assignment. It's a poor substitute, but I can give you a chance to work out some of your frustrations."

The human Knight turned and nodded meaningfully toward the raised sparring platforms below.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Seeing the sparring platforms as if for the first time, Vissica almost looked hungry by the prospect. Her whiskers quivered slightly as she stood, rolling her flexible spine into a stretch that bent the hirsute alien nearly in half forwards and backwards in a manner that would make a humanoid wince. She punctuated the motion by finishing a yawn at full height, shifting from foot to foot as her tail buoyed.

Narrowed eyes met Baastian as she looked down once more.

"I may work out some of them."

Sparring was a tempting bauble no matter how dark her thoughts became. She was raised from infancy to compete in battle. The idea of letting that training lie fallow was intolerable, and no matter how her senior colleague liked to tease her with high philosophy, he knew exactly how to placate her martial sensibilities.

Minutes later, the two Knights made their way from the observation deck to the central sparring platform. The Selonian still continued to stretch, the pace of her tail quickening as she limbered. Despite the human's distinct size and reach disadvantage, he was ferocious in battle, and the thrill at the cusp of their sparring was worth her often-inevitable defeat and the distaste of losing.

Vissica drew the handle of her greatsaber from her back-mounted scabbard, holding high the weapon as an immense column of white energy burned the air above her. The thrum of her distinctive blade had a deep voice like it's owner. It chewed the air with a growling swipe, like the drone of a LAAT gunship.

[Baastian Cain]

Across the gymnasium, the two students still hacked at one another with heavy feet and wobbly arms as exhaustion began to set in. But before they had finished the set, their Arkanian taskmaster shouted a command and waved them apart. The Zabrak girl and human boy followed his alabaster gaze to the other platform where the two Knights were taking up their positions, and the Zabrak rushed to the ledge, her eyes wide and eager as the boy, panting, plodded on behind.

Baastian Cain pinwheeled both his arms, then rocked his head from side to side, drawing a satisfying pop from his neck. His own ebony-and-electrum saber hilt shuddered, then leapt from his thigh holster into his waiting hand. The snow-white blade blazed to life, splitting his vision of the Selonian warrioress who stood before him.

"Gloria Imperium."

He swept the blade downward in salute.

"En guarde."

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Gloria Imperium

They were his words and his oath. Like the words of many of the Knights of the Empire. They represented fealty, a concept greatly sacred to the Selonian. She nodded in understanding as Baastian spoke them. Her own token of fealty moved easily past her teeth in return.

"For the Queen of my Queen."

Married to the greatsaber, Vissica fell into symbiosis. A ponderous weapon of reach but requiring commitment of motion to wield, decisiveness was key. Muscles coiled under hirsute sheen, and the Selonian pounced in a falling chop that split the air with a guttural growl of plasma. She moved to compel Baastian to move, to force him to give his ground and either retreat again or calculate his chances of counterattack. To attack was the best defense, each strike capable of breaking guard of all but the most committed defenses to stand up to it.

[Baastian Cain]

Vissica's blade cast a broad arc of destruction, imposing by its reach alone even if one didn't have the imagination to consider the raw power behind it. And it wasn't just the strength of the Selonian's arm - the magnetic induction necessary to contain a blade that size had a gyroscopic effect on the whole apparatus, giving the blade far more inertia than a typical lightsaber. More than one trainee had sorely underestimated the heft behind Vissica's swing, up until it pulled their shoulders out of joint.

Baastian didn't attempt to meet it directly. Instead, he abandoned his Makashi open for Soresu, turning his saber into a ramp to guide Vissica's blade away from his core. The force of the blow still nearly staggered him.

Rather than retreat and let her superior range dominate, he sidestepped away from her weapon and slid his blade farther up the length of hers, questing toward her powerful, webbed grip.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Baastian shrewdly leveraged for pole position, which was a move the Selonian was ill afforded to tolerate in a protracted duel. There, his more conventional blade would not only be more nimble, but could deliver force. The moment the human pressed to close the gap in Soresu, Vissica inverted the grip of her deep-set right hand, webbed fingers splaying as they gripped the pronounced pommel like the head of an oar. Pulling back as she pushed against a choked-up left handhold, the Musteloid bared her teeth as she torqued against the approaching conflict point. There, she planted her feet firmly and pushed to deny Baastian the close terms of engagement he desired and hopefully throw him off his heels in the process.

Whether she properly unseated him or not was irrelevant. Vissica returned her deep-set hand for a proper left-to-right slash that would hopefully assert her distance dominance and could easily peel away into another cleave. She hungered for momentum.

[Baastian Cain]

Baastian braced against Vissica's levering blade rather than give it room to maneuver for another attack, but his base was not as stable as he expected. His boots slid backwards as they lost traction with the platform, and as he stumbled to recover his balance, he found himself pressed close to the edge with little room to escape. Rather than risk a flanking blow while dodging to either side, Baastian gathered up the Force in his legs and leapt in a high, arcing rainbow above Vissica's head to the center of the platform.

Except Vissica still held the high ground, so to speak. Her blade followed him up and found a gap in his defense as his own frame of reference changed. He felt her massive blade rake his thighs, a stroke that would have bisected him had her weapon been live, and he tumbled to the platform with a crash and rolled shoulder over shoulder.

On the other platform, the Zabrak girl gasped in surprise.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Vissica's droning blade barked in dissonance as contact was made. The rush of a victorious strike surged through her as her sleek fur rippled momentarily at the muzzle in triumph. The good feeling dissipated almost immediately, replaced by a snarling growl of annoyance.

He left himself open, the sloppy fool!

Angry dark eyes turned in Baastian's direction even as the human struggled to right himself after taking a winding. Was he challenging her with less than his best? The humans called it sandbagging. To Vissica it was a lie. And she despised lies in all their forms.

"Get up!"

Stomping over to Baastian as she extinguished her blade, Vissica drew a paw around the fabric at his collar, wrenching him brusquely up to his feet before giving him a hard shove.

"Where is your mind?!"

The Selonian snarled and spat on the ground in distate.

[Baastian Cain]

Baastian found himself hauled up to his feet with a force nearly equal to the one that had knocked him down. He rocked back a few steps, sucking air, and then began to laugh at his own rookie mistake.

"Sorry. That's what I get for leaving my feet."

He felt like a shockball player taking his first good body blow after a long injury. The overhead lights seemed a little brighter, sounds a little sharper, and he could feel the blood racing through every artery and vein, warming his muscles and firing his mind. Baastian's steps were lighter as he moved back into his starting position and assumed a ready stance.

"Best two out of three?"

Vissica curled her whiskery lips and replied, "Only if it's your best."

The human smiled back, fully aware it was a mixed message in the lexicon of predators. "Don't worry. I'm not planning on holding back."

Another salute, and they were at it again. But this time Baastian closed the gap immediately and aggressively. His nimbler blade danced circles around Vissica's, forcing her to defend multiple angles - a mix of Ataru philosophy with Djem So footwork produced a stable base and a dynamic, almost chaotic attack.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Baastian resumed the duel with the initiative, seizing the moment with an aggressive style that mixed agility and power. With a growl, Vissica rocked back into combat stance and sparked her saber to intercept his fusilade of quick and strong-handed chops toward her center line. This time, he didn't give her room to repulse his attack with applied leverage, and it was everything that the Selonian could do to leverage not only against his incoming attack, but place the opposite edge of her blade where she could meet his anticipated next move. Her defense held at the expense of giving up ground, until she was pressed to the periphery. Pushed to the limit, Vissica pushed back literally, a paw releasing from deep grip on the pommel to command the force to repulse Baastian from his forward progress. Too late she realized, as he certainly anticipated her attempt to separate herself from contact. The only thing that spared the Selonian from tasting Baastian's blade was the Musteloid's agile frame. Her flexible spine twisted contrary to an incoming strike. Quickly, Vissica pivoted on footpads to swing her frame away from Baastian's center line. As she peeled away, her muscular tail clubbed him in the small of his back. She pivoted a stride away again, this time turning with her greatsaber extended at full.

[Baastian Cain]

Baastian absorbed the blow by spinning with it, which brought his upright blade in line to catch the brunt of Vissica's scything greatsaber. He dropped to one knee and directed the massive blade overhead, then reached back across his front to parry the less-powerful backswing.

Rising again, he shifted to a pure Djem So two-handed grip, with his hilt high and his blade singing like a cloud of angry wasps overhead, keeping the Selonian reared to her full height so she couldn't put her full body behind her strokes. It was finesse over power, dogging her every movement, daring her to gather herself for another executioner's swing.

[Matatek Sel Vissica]

Vissica's teeth bared in the throes of concentration. Baastian knew her weaknesses well, and he threw down a gauntlet for her to overcome them or be destroyed. As he rained down high striking chops upon her blade, the Selonian realized that any regrouping to deliver a strike would already leave him in position to attack her with impunity. Again she inverted her deep set hand and feinted a brace. Unlike the one that had unseated him before, the Mustaloid gave only a fraction of resistance. Instead she used Baastian's own press against her blade to allow her to fall from him. Tucking her greatsaber sideways and close, the Selonian's digitigrade legs tucked in time with her head as she rolled away as fluidly as a droideka. Springing from her backwards tuck and tumble like a cracking whip, she was on her feet with surprising grace in time to hurl her saber directly into the human's advance.

[Baastian Cain]

Baastian couldn't help but admire Vissica's athleticism - you didn't find that kind of maneuver in a training manual. He'd taken his first step in pursuit when he realized she was bunching for an attack that outstripped even her own weapon's redoubtable reach.

Rather than deflect the thrown greatsaber, he launched himself up and over as if it were a high jump bar, scarcely managing to tuck his legs up above the windmilling arc of plasma, and landed thunderously on both feet, still whirling with momentum, and drew his own saber down with the speed of a striking snake across Vissica's outstretched wrist.

Behind him, the boy on the other platform cried in alarm and threw himself to the deck underneath the still-sailing greatsaber. The Arkanian saber master calmly plucked it out of the air with one hand and extinguished it.