Private Family, Familiar, Forgotten.

[Serina Calis]

Location: Unknown Bunker, Chandrila
Tag: Jack Wright ​

Serina's grin widened into something truly wicked, her sharp blue eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she folded her arms over her armored chest. She tilted her head slightly, letting her golden locks cascade down one shoulder, the perfect picture of smug amusement. When she spoke, her voice was smooth and mocking, like silk laced with barbs.

"Oh, Jack," she drawled, her tone dripping with condescension. "You really don't think these things through, do you? 'Suspect in a criminal investigation'? 'Refugee of the Jedi Order'? Really? That's the best you've got?" She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as if she were genuinely disappointed in him.

She began to pace slowly, her heels clicking softly against the cold floor as she gestured dramatically with her hands. "Let me paint a little picture for you, dear educator. To the rest of the galaxy—" She stopped abruptly, turning to face him with a flourish, her voice suddenly sharp. "I'm dead. Do you understand that? I don't exist anymore. Serina Calis was slain in the Temple by your beloved Grandmaster. There's no record of me walking out of there alive. No whispers, no sightings. Nothing."

Her smirk widened, a cruel glint in her eyes as she leaned in slightly, her tone growing darker. "So tell me, how exactly does a dead woman become a suspect in a murder investigation? Hmm? What are you going to tell your precious Galactic Alliance? That you found me alive and well, standing here in the middle of my family's estate, surrounded by my loyal guards? Oh, I'm sure that will go over well." She laughed again, a sharp, cutting sound that echoed through the room.

Turning her attention to the guards, she gestured lazily in Jack's direction, her smirk never faltering. "You see, my dear protectors, our Jedi friend here is a little out of his depth. He seems to think that the Galactic Alliance's laws apply here, on private property, to the last true surviving member of House Calis." Her voice dripped with amusement, and the guards exchanged knowing smirks, clearly enjoying the performance.

Mira stepped forward slightly, her expression hardening as she turned to Jack. "Lady Calis is right. If she's legally considered dead, then there's no basis for her to be involved in this investigation. You're grasping at straws, Jedi."

"Exactly, Mira," Serina purred, her tone softening as she turned to the younger woman, brushing a gloved hand lightly over her armored shoulder. "You always catch on so quickly. Such a sharp mind—so unlike someone in this room." She cast a pointed glance at Jack, her grin widening into something positively predatory.

She turned back to him, spreading her arms in an exaggerated gesture of invitation. "So, Jack, tell me—how do you plan to explain this? Are you going to drag me back to Coruscant in chains and announce to the galaxy that I'm alive after all? Do you have any idea what that would do to your precious Order's reputation? Oh, the scandal!" She placed a hand dramatically over her heart, feigning shock. "'The Jedi failed to report the survival of one of their own Padawans? That the New Jedi Order lied to the Galactic Alliance? Grandmaster Noble failed?'" Her voice dropped to a low, venomous purr. "It would be delicious."

Serina began to circle him again, her steps slow and deliberate, her voice like a blade wrapped in velvet. "Face it, Jack. You're out of your league. You have no authority here, no evidence, and no idea what you're up against. This isn't your Temple, and I'm not one of your wayward students. You have no leash to yank, no rules to enforce. All you have is your pride—and it's looking a little fragile right now."

She stopped directly in front of him, her piercing gaze boring into his, her grin practically daring him to respond. "So go ahead. Arrest me. Drag me off to your little council chambers and see what happens. Or better yet…" She tilted her head, her tone softening into something almost seductive. "Turn around, walk away, and tell them you found nothing. Save yourself the embarrassment. Save your Order the fallout. Because one way or another, Jack, this doesn't end well for you."

Her voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible, but cutting all the same. "I would much rather break you slowly."

 

[Jack Wright]

(Tag: Serina Calis )

...

...

...

The sound of a saber de-ignited.

"Alright," The second he clipped his saber, Jack smirked wearily, tapping the side of his temple, just declaring right off the bat, "You win."

Provided with a demonstrated bow towards the guards, something twinkled in those hazel eyes. Ever as he kept his posture poise, and poignant. Even so, there was an unmistakable drawl.

"My apologies for this misunderstanding, I shall simply have to report my findings to the proper authorities, and we can get this silly business sorted." As he heard the shift in the Force, Jack threw back a lazy smirk. A coyness in his voice that brook no room, he was twisting the game, "And I'm sure the House Calis will not diminish its long standing by refusing to cooperate when they came knocking, right 'Lady?'"

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Unknown Bunker, Chandrila
Tag: Jack Wright ​

Serina's grin faltered for the briefest moment at Jack's unexpected acquiescence, her sharp blue eyes narrowing as she studied him. She knew better than to trust him at face value—this wasn't a retreat, it was a pivot. He was planning something, but the game was hers now, and she wasn't about to let him seize the reins.

She stepped forward, her smirk returning in full force, her voice light and mocking. "Oh, Jack, such a gentleman," she purred, her tone dripping with condescension. "A bow, an apology, and a promise to report back to your masters. So dutiful. So... predictable." She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "But we both know you're not walking away empty-handed. You're just biding your time, spinning some little scheme to try and catch me off guard. It's cute, really."

Before she could continue, the distant sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor. A runner emerged from one of the side passages—a young man clad in the insignia of House Calis, his expression one of restrained triumph. He bowed deeply before addressing Serina with the utmost deference.

"Lady Calis," he began, his voice steady despite his brisk arrival. "The planetary investigation has been concluded. The authorities have officially determined that the attack on Lord and Lady Calis was carried out by a radical anti-House Calis faction within the planetary government. All evidence has been verified and filed. House Calis has been cleared of any and all suspicion."

The runner handed her a datapad containing the report, but Serina barely glanced at it, her smirk deepening as she turned back to Jack. The satisfaction in her expression was palpable, radiating from her like the glow of her armor. Everything had fallen into place.

"Well, well," she said, her voice practically dripping with smug delight. "What a convenient conclusion. An anti-House Calis faction? How utterly shocking." She held up the datapad, gesturing toward Jack with a mocking flourish. "See? It's all right here in black and white. The truth, as declared by the proper authorities. No doubt you'll want to report this to your Jedi friends as well. Wouldn't want them chasing ghosts, now would we?"

She turned back to the guards, her tone light and playful now. "It seems our Jedi friend has nothing to worry about after all. How kind of the authorities to clear this up so quickly. Truly, they've saved us all a great deal of trouble."

The guards chuckled quietly, their amusement evident as they exchanged knowing glances. Mira, still standing closest to Serina, looked practically euphoric, her admiration for her Lady shining clearly in her eyes.

But Serina wasn't finished. She turned back to Jack, her expression shifting into something more thoughtful—though the amusement never fully left her features. "You know, Jack," she began, her tone softer now, almost casual, "you've gone through so much trouble to get here. Traveled all this way, thrown your little accusations around, made quite the spectacle of yourself."

She paused, her eyes glinting with something dark and mischievous as her smirk widened. "It would be such a shame for you to leave empty-handed. So, how about this? A little duel. For old times' sake." She stepped closer, her voice dropping into a smooth, enticing purr. "No death, no injury—just a bit of sport. You and me. You can call it... closure. A chance to see if you really are the 'educator' you claim to be."

Her gaze bore into his, daring him to refuse as she added, "Or perhaps you're afraid? Afraid of what you might learn about yourself. About me." She took another step forward, close enough now that her presence in the Force seemed to wrap around him like a suffocating cloak. "After all, Jack... you're not leaving here without a story to tell. Wouldn't you prefer it to be one worth remembering?"

She extended her hand toward him, her smirk twisting into something wicked and inviting all at once. "So, what do you say, dear educator? Shall we see how much you've taught yourself?"

 

[Jack Wright]

(Tag: Serina Calis )

The tension in the air was staggering.

Jack looked down, then to, then from and to the hand and face again, expression impossibly rigid. With those stoic features, several of the guardsmen tensed, unsure what to be prepared for, but something noticeably shifted in the air.

Led to an inevitable crescendo.

When the Knight inexplicably closed his eyes, sighing worn out, deep, and long. As if taking a moment to gather his thoughts, the sheer ludicrousness of the moment at hand, when hazel glimmered open.

And then he offered, with a warm smile, "As you wish."

In the blink of an air, a whizzing sound pierced the air when Serina's loyal guard was Force-shoved back into the arms of her fellows, three azure jabs of a blitzing blade made for the young Fallen's left shoulder, chest and torso.

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Unknown Bunker, Chandrila
Tag: Jack Wright ​

The first azure strike hissed through the air, but Serina pivoted with effortless precision, her body moving in a graceful arc as the blade passed within a hair's breadth of her shoulder. The second and third came just as swiftly, but she was already in motion, her movements fluid and precise, her dark presence in the Force augmenting her speed and reactions. Jack's strikes cut through nothing but air, and the space around them hummed with tension.

Serina didn't waste time with her usual taunts. Her eyes blazed with a mixture of exhilaration and calculated malice as she leaned into her combat instincts, her expression sharp and focused. As she dodged, she turned her head slightly toward Mira without breaking her rhythm.

"Mira." Her voice cut through the air like a blade, commanding yet dripping with dark seduction. "Ebon Requiem. Now."

Mira, already poised and alert, didn't hesitate. She reached for the halberd positioned at her side, its faintly glowing etchings casting an ominous light against her armor. With a reverent swiftness, she stepped forward and extended the weapon toward her Lady, her voice trembling with devotion. "As you command, Lady Calis."

Serina grasped the halberd's haft with both hands, her grip firm and sure. The weapon seemed to hum as it met her touch, its intricate etchings glowing brighter in response, bathing the room in an eerie crimson hue. The weight of it was heavy, but perfectly balanced, a testament to its exceptional craftsmanship. She swung it once in a slow, deliberate motion, the blade slicing through the air with an audible whoosh.

She turned her head toward Mira, her expression softening just enough to offer the young guard a wicked smile. "Good girl," she said, her voice low and dripping with approval. Mira's eyes widened, her cheeks flushing faintly as she stepped back, visibly entranced by the simple acknowledgment.

Serina returned her attention to Jack, leveling the halberd before her. She adjusted her stance, her movements deliberate and measured as she held the weapon with the ease of a seasoned warrior. Her armored form seemed to radiate a dark, elegant power, the halberd an extension of her will. She looked every bit the deadly force she claimed to be.

"Well struck," she said, her voice calm and calculating now, every word chosen with precision. "But predictable. If this is all the Jedi taught you, Jack, then I fear for your Order's future."

She slid her right foot back, angling the halberd so its curved hook glinted in the light. Her piercing blue eyes locked onto him with unyielding intensity. "Come," she commanded, her tone sharp and unrelenting. "Show me what you've learned. Let's see if you can do more than flail in the dark."

Serina shifted her weight, lowering into a defensive stance that was both regal and predatory, the halberd gleaming in the dim light. Her presence in the Force was oppressive now, bearing down on the room like a thunderstorm about to break. She was no longer toying with him. This was combat. This was control. And Serina Calis was prepared to dominate.

 

[Jack Wright]

(Tag: Serina Calis )

A halberd... Really?

Jack wasn't sure she was taking another seriously, anymore.

Tossing the saber from one hand to another, the Knight smirked grimly and kept his distance, following the rote of light jabs and love taps, courtesy of Form II's emphasis on fluidity. Flanking around Serina's left, he gave her some leverage, making sure the duel remained in his pace.

This was, after all, a game.

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Unknown Bunker, Chandrila
Tag: Jack Wright
​

Serina's smirk sharpened as Jack danced around her with his probing strikes, his Form II elegance on full display. She let him play his game for the moment, her grip on Ebon Requiem steady and commanding, the heavy halberd feeling like an extension of her body. Her posture shifted subtly, weight distributed perfectly between her feet as she tracked his movements with predatory precision.

"You're holding back, Jack," she said coldly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "That's the problem with Jedi—you always mistake restraint for control."

As Jack's next jab came toward her left side, she shifted swiftly, rotating her hips and bringing the halberd's haft up horizontally to deflect the blow. The phrik-coated staff hummed slightly as it absorbed the glancing strike, and Serina capitalized on the momentum. Pivoting sharply on her back foot, she swung the halberd in a wide arc, aiming to catch Jack's midsection with the blade's razor-sharp edge.

The strike wasn't reckless—it was precise, the curved blade slicing through the air with the fluidity of someone who understood the weight and balance of the weapon. Her grip on the haft was firm but adaptive, allowing her to control the trajectory with a level of finesse that belied the halberd's heavy design.

 

[Jack Wright]

( Serina Calis )

The duck backwards just narrowly evaded the wide swing, Jack having little desire for a Gamorrean's demise, with a low smirk, the Knight reoriented and switched his blade back and forth, in both hands. Waggling his brows with a coy invitation.

"If restraint was always an issue, no wonder you sucked at Makashi."

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Unknown Bunker, Chandrila
Tag: Jack Wright ​

Serina's smirk twisted into something darker, more predatory, as Jack's quip hung in the air. "Sucked at Makashi?" she echoed, her tone dripping with mock disbelief. Her grip on Ebon Requiem tightened, and her stance shifted slightly, the halberd's weight poised for precise, devastating strikes. "Oh, Jack. You really shouldn't have said that."

Jack's playful movements and cocky invitation gave her exactly what she wanted—initiative. And with a weapon like hers, that was all she needed.

She stepped forward with a sharp pivot of her hips, sliding her back foot in a crescent arc to close the distance with frightening speed. Using the halberd's considerable reach, she delivered a powerful thrust aimed straight for Jack's torso. The spiked tip of Ebon Requiem shot forward with a controlled, linear motion, forcing him to either commit to a dodge or risk the lethal precision of her attack.

But Serina wasn't relying on a single strike. As Jack reacted—whether dodging or deflecting—she immediately transitioned into a follow-up. Taking a half-step forward to maintain pressure, she twisted her grip and brought the weapon's haft up in a tight, controlled motion, the curved hook on the halberd's blade arcing downward in a vicious attempt to catch Jack's saber arm or shoulder. The maneuver was not only aggressive but designed to disarm or destabilize, exploiting the halberd's versatility to maximum effect.

 

[Jack Wright]

(Tag: Serina Calis )

CLASH

Well, he certainly got her attention!

Jack just about managed to block the incoming blow, twisting his wrist to hold the saber in a reverse angle, catching the humming halberd with heat scorching at his visage. Gritting his teeth, the Knight sought to retaliate, in a moment's loss of graceful orientation.

When he used the open spot to kick the fallen foe square in the torso, the impact enough to have one stagger. Whirling his lightsaber around now free of the onslaught, Jack continued with an elegant sweep of four thrusts, maintaining his distance with the right hand outstretched. Followed by a low-angle sweep, a light, arching cut straight for the woman's ankles, spinning around afterwards and maintaining a healthy distance.

Anticipation bubbling up in his being, to put it mildly. For as much as he was resigned to acknowledge for the emotion of the situation.

He was enjoying this.

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Unknown Bunker, Chandrila
Tag: Jack Wright ​

The impact of Jack's boot against her torso forced a sharp breath from Serina's lips, the forceful kick sending a jolt through her frame as she staggered back a step. But she didn't panic. She didn't falter. She adapted.

Her grip on Ebon Requiem remained firm, her feet shifting instinctively into a braced stance to absorb the recoil. The momentary opening allowed Jack to unleash his flurry of thrusts, his Form II precision aiming for speed and control over brute force. But Serina was no stranger to facing a duelist—she knew the rhythm of Makashi, the flow of its movements, and she reacted accordingly.

As the first thrust came, she snapped the halberd's haft diagonally downward, deflecting the lightsaber strike with a well-timed parry. The phrik-alloy staff held firm against the plasma blade, the faint hiss of heat against metal barely registering to her as she rotated her hands, smoothly transitioning into a secondary guard. The second thrust followed immediately, but rather than blocking it directly, she pivoted on her back foot, allowing the attack to pass just inches from her side.

Jack pressed forward, the third and fourth thrusts coming in rapid succession. Serina shifted her grip, using the full length of the halberd's haft to knock one strike wide before shifting her body low to evade the other entirely. As she moved, her expression was calm, focused—every step a calculated adjustment, every motion efficient and precise.

Then came the real danger. Jack flowed seamlessly into his low-angle sweep, his blade arcing toward her ankles in a quick, precise cut meant to cripple her mobility. But Serina had already read his movement.

Instead of retreating, she countered.

At the last possible moment, she drove the butt of the halberd's haft into the ground with force, using it as an anchor to push herself into a short, controlled hop. The lightsaber's blade cut through empty space beneath her, grazing the air where her legs had just been. As she landed, she immediately counterattacked, using the downward momentum of her landing to bring the halberd's weight into play.

She didn't waste time on flourish—this was about efficiency.

Her first counterstrike came as a brutal downward chop, the phrik-edged blade aiming directly for Jack's outstretched saber arm. The motion wasn't wild or reckless—it was a measured blow, exploiting the moment where Jack was recovering from his own attack.

Then came the follow-up.

Rather than committing fully to the downward chop, she transitioned smoothly into the next movement, pulling the halberd's haft toward herself and stepping in close. Her hands reversed their grip in a snap movement, using the momentum of her own attack to redirect the weapon's force. With a sharp twist of her wrists, she brought the hooked end of the halberd around in a brutal, close-quarters riposte aimed at Jack's back leg. The maneuver was designed to trip him—if the hook caught behind his knee, it would be enough to compromise his balance.

And yet, she wasn't done.

As soon as the hook arced toward Jack's leg, she used her superior leverage and weapon length to twist the haft sharply, swinging the butt-end of the halberd in a short, powerful jab aimed directly at his sternum. It was a textbook combination—attack, trip, and drive home a destabilizing strike.

Her breathing was steady. Her movements controlled.

Jack was fast. But she was faster.

 

[Jack Wright]

(Tag: Serina Calis )

Just about missing the downward strike - his right saber arm almost being on the chopping block - was the least of his concerns, as Jack would quickly discover. Reverse-grip met reverse-grip by her second assault, the tip of his saber just barely managed to impact against the hook end of her weapon-

Jack felt properly winded. Staggering from the impact towards his centre chest, the Knight had to breathe for a second, taken off-guard from the successful hit of Serina's mixture of precision speed, boots finding their footing after a few seconds, met with Serina's taunting gaze, a brow perked.

Despite himself, the Knight grinned. Twirling his blade in a flourish, "Nice. I see the Sith taught you some tricks." Even with a subdued sorrow, in his tone.

When Jack unexpected stabbed forward, zipping with speed that he expected Serina to block or evade, and anticipated it; a subtle Niman trick when he flicked his left hand, just concentrating on one specific point of the blonde's body she wouldn't think to defend.

The Force redirected her wrist movement to the side by his will, Jack thrusted precisely towards her lower extended arms by said wrists.

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Unknown Bunker, Chandrila
Tag: Jack Wright

Spoiler: THEME

Serina's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she watched Jack stagger back, her blow having landed with perfect precision. She didn't press immediately. No, she wanted him to feel it. To register that he was losing ground. She could see the moment he caught his breath, his body reorienting itself, his footing steadying. The way he grinned through the hit, spinning his blade in that familiar, cocky flourish—it made her itch to cut that bravado apart.

But he was still dangerous.

Her smirk didn't falter as he lunged with a sudden stab, his speed flickering through the air like a striking serpent. Serina had fought him long enough to know what to expect—her hands tightened around Ebon Requiem, preparing to twist her grip and angle the halberd's haft into a hard parry. The thrust was coming toward center mass—she'd deflect and counter with a riposte—

Except—no.

Something shifted.

She felt it just a second too late—an unnatural tug, subtle but deliberate, throwing off the alignment of her wrist. The Force rippled around her, guiding her hand off-course, forcing her parry wide when she needed precision. The realization hit her as the snap of his saber blade neared its mark.

Her exposed wrists.

It was an expert maneuver—he hadn't just anticipated her block, he'd manipulated it, redirected it with just enough finesse to expose a crucial weak point in her stance. It was the kind of move designed not for brute force, but for control.He wasn't just fighting her—he was trying to tame the duel.

IT refused to let him.

Serina reacted instantly, instincts overriding calculation. She pivoted hard on her left foot, yanking her right wrist down at the last possible moment, forcing the attack to miss by an agonising inch. At the same time, her left hand released the halberd's haft momentarily, twisting her body sideways to prevent her wrist from being exposed again. The phrik-etched weapon shifted with her movement, the weight pulling back toward her core.

Her right arm tensed, and in a motion so brutal it almost ignored her usual grace, a movement so unnatural that it almost felt like it wasn’t Serina, but rather her body was contorted by some puppet master beyond mortal vision. She slammed the haft of the halberd downward in a vicious two-handed clash against his lightsaber, redirecting the follow-through away from her completely. Sparks flared from the phrik alloy as it ate the heat of his blade, the force of her impact rattling up her own arms.

She wasted no time pressing back.

Using the momentum from the impact, Serina threw her weight into the follow-up, snapping her left foot forward in a short, explosive lunge, twisting Ebon Requiem to bring its blunt haft into a horizontal bash aimed at Jack's ribs. It wasn't about cutting—it was about shoving him back, about disrupting his flow the way he'd just done to her.

She hated that he'd forced her into that defensive split-second.

"You think you can control this fight?" she hissed, her voice sharp as the halberd she wielded. "Like I'm some padawan waiting to be taught a lesson?"

Her words were venomous, but there was something else layered beneath them. Excitement.

Serina had spent so long toying with people—so long feeling above them—that she had almost forgotten what it was like to struggle. Jack had made her struggle.

And it thrilled her.

Her grip on Ebon Requiem flexed, her piercing blue eyes burning with something almost feral as she prepared to launch into her next attack.

Jack had forced her to react. Now it was her turn.

 

[Jack Wright]

(Tag: Serina Calis )

His right foot quivered from the impact to his side, but he preserved through the fight when his right elbow wrapped around said haft, actively pinning that piece of the halberd between both arm and ribs. With a grunted sigh, Jack managed a weary smile, leaning to whisper between the crossed blades, hazel eyes gleaming with mischief.

"You will always be a Padawan."

And with forced momentum, he pulled; slamming the pommel of his momentary-deactivated saber square into the forehead of her quarry, releasing the haft last-second and re-ignited, taking a cautious step backwards. Elegantly spinning, the saber angled down by his right side, pointed for the dirtied floor.

The bruises to his ribs lingered, but they were only that. He can persevere, he had to.

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Unknown Bunker, Chandrila
Tag: Jack Wright

Spoiler: THEME

The crack of the pommel against Serina's forehead sent a sharp jolt of pain radiating through her skull. It wasn't enough to drop her—not nearly—but the sheer audacity of the move sent a white-hot burst of rage surging through her veins. The momentary disorientation lasted only a heartbeat, but in that fleeting second, she saw it—

Jack's grin.

His stupid, cocky, infuriating grin.

Serina staggered back a step, her grip tightening viscerally around Ebon Requiem as her mind registered the insult before the pain.

"You will always be a Padawan."

Her blue eyes snapped up, burning with something dangerous, something electric, as she steadied herself, chest rising and falling in controlled but heated breaths. The phrik-alloy blade of her halberd whined faintly as she adjusted her grip, its deadly edge catching the light.

For the first time in the duel, her smirk was gone.

"You really shouldn't have said that," she murmured, her voice low, smooth—deadly.

She rotated her neck slightly, the lingering ache from the impact already dulling under the weight of something far more potent. Pure spite. He had touched her weapon, pinned it, pinned her—and then, as if that weren't enough, he had stepped back. Like this was just another game.

Serina took a step forward.

Then another.

Then—without warning—she lunged.

Not a calculated step, not a measured strike—a lunge.

She closed the distance instantly, bringing the butt of her halberd around in a vicious, sweeping crack aimed straight for his temple. It was fast, direct, and blunt, carrying the sheer momentum of her entire body with it.

But Serina wasn't stupid—this wasn't a reckless move.

It was bait.

She expected Jack to dodge, block, or counter. The real attack came half a second later.

As her first strike moved through the air, she twisted her entire upper body, rotating Ebon Requiem in a seamless redirection—and brought the hooked end swinging toward his left ankle, the spiked curve designed to snare, to trap, to rip him off his feet.

She had no interest in graceful flourishes anymore.

No taunting smirks.

No witty remarks.

Jack had struck her. Embarrassed her. Called her a Padawan.

Serina Calis was done playing.

If he wanted to treat her like a student—then she would teach him exactly what that mistake would cost him.

No. Mercy.​

 

[Jack Wright]

(Tag: Serina Calis )

The Force was now screaming in warning, Jack felt a short, surprised gasp exhale from the lungs, just reaching out in time after Serina's effective feint to block for the main assault.

Too late. It took aa lot of willpower to hold back a yellow.

The tip of her spike just nipping into his ankle, thankfully the armour he wore endured most of the impact, but it still stung, but to put it mildly; Jack huffed quietly, retreating backwards for a brief moment of respite. Something about the apprentice's strike told the man something.

She wasn't in control. Serina was falling into the trap all Acolytes drunk on the Dark Side, tasting on their rage and fury, their desire to rip apart any who stand in their way.

She lacked judgement. Determined to end this, Jack sighed deeply, closing his eyes and lowered his saber, expressing suddenly lax, followed with the deepest inhale, breathing in to calm his own turmoil at who he was fighting. Focusing on the Force to soothe his frayed nerves, accept the damage both external and internal.

Letting them be acknowledged, and passed on.

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Unknown Bunker, Chandrila
Tag: Jack Wright

Spoiler: THEME

Serina's breath was sharp, ragged—not from exertion, but from something far more volatile. Her pulse thundered in her ears, the thrill of the fight, the burn of impact, the sheer, infuriating restraint that Jack displayed. He should have fought harder. He should have matched her. Instead, he lowered his saber.

Her grip on Ebon Requiem tightened.

The words you will always be a Padawan echoed in her skull like a taunt, a sneer that refused to fade. She had hurt him—almost broken his stance, forced him to stumble—but it wasn't enough. It wasn't satisfying. It didn't erase the insult.

Serina took a step forward, the halberd's spiked tip dragging faintly along the ground, Ebon Requiem humming with barely contained lethality. She was going to strike again. Just one more time. Just once. To make him kneel. To make him see—

"Lady Calis!"

The sharp call of her title snapped through the tension like a whip.

Serina's head snapped toward the voice—Mira, standing at the edge of the sparring ground, blaster raised but her expression uncertain. The other guards were already moving.

The moment had passed.

The air shifted as multiple forms stepped forward at once, encircling the duel like a tightening net. The House Calis Guard, once silent observers, now took action. Jack was a guest no longer—he was a threat.

Serina exhaled, slow and controlled. She forced herself to still. Her heartbeat hammered against her ribs, her hands ached to swing Ebon Requiem again, to finish this. To end his wretched life. But instead—she relaxed. Not fully. Not truly. But enough to let go.

She turned to face Jack, her piercing blue eyes still blazing with intensity, but her smirk had returned—colder, sharper, but collected.

"You disappoint me, Jack," she murmured, tilting her head. "For all your talk, for all your lessons—in the end, you gave up." She let the words hang, savoring the moment, before she slowly lifted Ebon Requiem, spinning the halberd once in her grip before planting it firmly into the dirt. The duel was over.

The guards advanced, Mira leading the charge with rigid authority, her gaze flickering briefly to Serina for approval. The young woman hesitated—just for a second—but it was there, the slightest falter in her conviction. She had enjoyed the duel, had been enthralled by Serina's display of dominance, but now duty called.

Serina noticed the hesitation.

She smiled.

"Take him," she ordered smoothly, voice like silk over steel. "He's tired of playing, aren't you, Jack?"

The guards moved swiftly, stepping into position around the Jedi Knight, their presence firm and unwavering. Weapons weren't drawn—not yet—but the message was clear. Jack was finished here.

Serina leaned forward slightly, her tone dropping into something low and intimate, something only he could hear. "You lost, Jack. In more ways than one. But don't worry…" A dark smirk played on her lips. "I'm sure you'll find a way to rationalize it later."

She straightened, gesturing to the guards with a flick of her wrist. "Escort him out. Politely. No need to rough him up—yet."

Mira hesitated again, but quickly nodded, stepping closer to Jack, her expression unreadable. The guards awaited his response, tension thick in the air. The duel was over.

But the game had just begun.

 

[Jack Wright]

(Tag: Serina Calis )

Hazel eyes opened, the sound of a saber diminishing filled the air.

Hooking it back onto his belt, Jack stretched his arms, slowly, as to not startle his... Escort. Mustering back a low smile, neither one of gloating nor acknowledge of the fallen apprentice's words.

Just a soft dismay.

"I'm not the one trying to rationalize it."

With that gentle nod of farewell, Jack sparsely gave the guards a glance, moved away from the premises in slow, patient trepidation. The chilling promise in the Force, this'd hardly be their last encounter.

Serina wasn't the sole one to initiate plans straight off the bat.

 

[Serina Calis]

Location: Unknown Bunker, Chandrila
Tag: Jack Wright

Spoiler: THEME

As the last echoes of Jack's footsteps faded beyond the threshold of the estate, Serina remained motionless, Ebon Requiem still planted firmly into the dirt where she had left it. The tension of battle still crackled in her veins, the residual energy from the duel pulsing through her body like the fading aftershocks of a storm. The cold night air was still, save for the distant hum of the estate's security systems and the faint murmurs of the guards discussing the Jedi's departure.

She didn't join them.

Instead, she remained exactly where she was, standing in the open air, her piercing blue gaze fixed on the distant horizon. There was no need to watch Jack leave—he was already gone. What mattered now was everything he had left behind.

His words still lingered in the air like an unfinished symphony.

"I'm not the one trying to rationalize it."

A lesser mind might have dismissed it as an empty retort. A final, desperate attempt at salvaging pride. But Serina was not a lesser mind. She was a creature of calculation, of perception, of intricacy. She knew how to pull apart the threads of a person's psyche, how to tear away at the walls they built around themselves and expose the raw, writhing truth beneath.

And Jack?

Jack had given her so much.

He had fought well. He had adapted, countered, pressed her, forced her into a level of exertion that few had ever managed. There was satisfaction in that—thrill, even—but that wasn't what held her mind captive now. It was the final moments, the choice he had made at the end.

He had lowered his saber.

That had been his greatest mistake. Not because it was weakness, not because he had failed to land the final blow—but because, in doing so, he had ceded control to her. It had been an unconscious submission, an acceptance of the role she had forced upon him. Jack may have thought he was making a choice, but it had been her who dictated it.

And that was what truly interested her.

"You will always be a Padawan."

He had said it with such certainty, such conviction, as if he believed it to be an undeniable truth. As if saying it aloud would make it real. But Serina knew better. Words held power, but only when they were backed by something greater. And Jack, for all his defiance, for all his desperate insistence that he was the one in control?

He had failed.

Not just in the duel, not just in his attempt to take her into custody. No—Jack had failed in the most fundamental way possible.

He had let her in.

Even now, she could feel the mark she had left on him, like a seed buried deep beneath the surface, waiting to take root. Her words, her presence, her domination—they had all touched him. And for all his Jedi mantras, for all his pretenses of moral superiority, there was no escaping influence.

Jack would try to dismiss it. He would rationalize it, as he always did. He would convince himself that he had remained untouched, that he had simply lost a fight and nothing more. But Serina knew the truth.

Corruption was never immediate. It was a slow, creeping thing.

A whisper in the dark.

A thought that wouldn't leave.

A doubt that festered beneath the surface.

It had begun the moment he had accepted the duel. The moment he had enjoyed it. That was the first crack. And Serina? She knew cracks when she saw them. She didn't need to tear them open all at once—she only needed to widen them, little by little, until the foundation collapsed beneath its own weight.

Jack had walked away.

But she had already won.

Serina inhaled deeply, the night air cool against her skin as she closed her eyes. The Dark Side wrapped around her like a lover's embrace, whispering to her, singing to her, feeding off the pleasure of her victory. The power of dominance, of command, was intoxicating in its rawness. She relished it, let it sink into her bones, fill every fiber of her being.

This was what the Jedi would never understand. The truth of power.

It was not about destruction. It was not about mindless rage. It was about control. About shaping the world, shaping people, bending them, influencing them in ways they could never see until it was far, far too late.

The Jedi preached restraint.

Serina preached inevitability.

The slow, creeping truth that all things could be molded to her will.

Her lips curled into a slow, wicked smile.