Mirrored Intent

[Ara Zambrano]

Panatha
Palace of Ara Zambrano
Training/Meditation Rooms, Lower Floors


The crack of a whip echoed through the chamber, adding to the mix of ragged breathing, shifting fabric, and body parts scraping against smooth tile.

The snap-hiss of plasma meeting crashed against the stone surrounding, amplified by the walls of the training room deep within the bowels of the castle until it was early deafening. The flash of sparks, crimson against crimson, turned her lips up in a smile as the Master managed another successful parry, her lightwhip elegantly disengaging with a flick of the wrist, the squeal of boots sliding across the floor as the pair danced apart adding to the cacophony of sound.

“Tiring already, Brennan?”

A taunting chuckle and disappointed clicking sound followed the bit of bravado, Ara’s own words clipped and broken by a panting breath as she turned, a predatory smile complimenting her calculating gaze. Bravado was all she had left as muscles screamed for a moment of pause, pushed to their limits until even the darkness flowing through her failed to mask the pain. Sweat rolled down her neck, dripping into long chestnut locks bound back in a loose braid, coating her skin, the soaked fabric of her tunic clinging to every curve of her torso. Salt dripped into multiple abrasions, inflamed skin and torn muscle sending shards of fire through her arms and side with every movement.

They’d been sparring for long enough that both struggled with reaction time, his blade leaving its searing mark on her body, her whip leaving its stinging rebuttals on his. Casting out her right arm, she shifted, her body and wrist moving in a fluid motion yet twisting at the last second, attempting to envelop his armour wrapped wrist with amber plasma, an accompanying yank to throw him off balance. Her exhaustion betrayed her, the attack falling short of its target, instead snapping harmlessly at the empty space to the left of the Knight.

A dark growl followed the failed move, the Zambrano taking a stumbling step back in anticipation of his follow-up attack at the opening she left him.

[member="Caehl Ren"]

 

[WolfMortum]

While many would look down upon the Knight of Ren for the state of his being, cybernetic reworkings accounting for the majority of his limbs and upper chest, all enveloped by the Armor of the Order of Ren, constructed in collaboration with the FOSB did not come without it’s advantages; In this case, his physical exertion being over-clocked by the added stimulants of the foreign body and while he tired, the power of his artificial implants allowed him to move against the limits of his former self.

Ara Zambrano had underestimated him, though she too had gone longer than any other being he had faced within such violent training and far overpowered him when it came to the use of the Force. His strength here was his weapon, every clash of their crimson blades forcing her back and doing his utmost to throw her off kilter while taking to the attack through the practice of Djem So, the form he had picked up within his former life as a weaker fool and one that he had come to master with the utmost aggression and the total release of his anger, regardless of the fact that the Arch-Queen of Panatha stood as his Ally and since their pairing together on Bespin, his only associate within the Order of Ren that he considered with any personal regard.

The crack of her whip snapped out across the atmosphere of the room, tension that could be felt in a veil of darkness thick enough to inhibit one’s breathing were they not sensitive to the Force. She had sought to pull him off balance yet her arms failed to carry the throw of her weapon and as she turned into him, Caehl leaned forward, his lightsaber deactivating with a flash of red and hand tightly balled around the hilt, the heat of the blade still searing against the front of his gauntlet, he intended to collide the full weight of his fist into her jaw.

[member="Ara Zambrano"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

The sudden void of light where his blade once was gave little warning as his fist struck out, wrapped around the heated hilt of his saber as it was. The darkness surrounding them sung through her veins, unused in this exercise of bladework, the pair having long before agreed to rely on their physical skills, where they were far more equally matched. The flash of metal and fabric caught her eye even as she moved, turning her body and face with the blow, the force of impact far blunted from what it had been if she had en even a second slower and hairsbreadth closer.

Red flashed across her vision as pain flared, the sharp bite of flesh and bone meeting metal dropping her to one knee. The copper tang of blood dripped into her mouth, the side of her cheek ravaged by teeth in the moment of impact.

Rage and anger washed over, the Master recovering with hardly a stumble, lashing out with both foot and whip. Her booted leg swung around, using her momentum and lower position to attempt to sweep his feet out from under him, while a quick snap of the wrist set her blade flashing upward, the tail of yellow plasma snaking towards his side.

She had half a mind to return the favor, an easy tug with the Force would send him crashing to the ground, his heavy armour a detriment in just such a situation. The corner of her lips twisted up in amusement as she imagined the beautiful sound of durasteel meeting duracrete, a fitting revenge for the throbbing pain of bruised muscle and possibly bone radiating from her jaw. As much as she longed to give in to impulse, she had honor and rules had been agreed upon.

The power flowing through her snapped and boiled, begging to be let loose, her eyes deepening to a maroon shade, all signs of amber gone as darkness took over. Pushing it down, Ara dropped to one knee, moving to roll away from the tight scuffle to prepare again, sides straining from the effort to breathe through the exertion.

[member="Caehl Ren"]

 

[WolfMortum]

With his balance already thrown off kilter in response to the impact against her jaw and his arm outstretched towards her he had not expected her recovery so soon just as he were preparing to follow through with another blow.

Instead the back of his right leg buckled where the steel reinforcement of the remains of the limb weren’t in place to do her more harm than good, her leg connecting with one of the weaker points of his decrepit body and with a flicker of light and a searing burn that wrapped up around his side and left the mark of a snake like shape embroiled against his armor, Caehl Ren came crashing to the floor, the weight of the Knight causing one of the tiles to crack beneath his impact and shudder with a few shards of broken stone.

Around them the Dark Side of the Force was strong, enveloping the two in their training together, encompassing and feeding off of their experience and the ties that had been built upon the backs of their enemies sundered and fallen against their previous battles. Ara Zambrano, Brennan Cabrol, they too had been paired together long since before they had grown tolerant of one another, their Master before them a mutual factor yet it was their suffering and their struggles overcome for the glory of the First Order’s triumph in the war against the Galactic Alliance that had united them in personal loyalty.
Rising back to his feet, his left hand moved to detatch and remove the helm that kept him vacant, his smirk soon becoming evident as he moved to step away from their little battleground and place it to the side out of harms way. His shoulders lifted and rolled, carrying the bulk of his armor, his cuirass shifting as he stretched and sought to alleviate himself of the stress and exhaustion she had wrought upon him. Ever the underdog, ever pushing himself to overcome those so much stronger than he was and ever sacrificing his body in the pursuit of power and dominion over the Force that he might become a testament worth of Sieger Ren; these were the times where against the state of his livelihood today, he truly felt alive.

“You talk too much…”

He extended his right hand to gesture to her. Even though this was competition between friends and allies to the same path, the Arch Queen had been given the reminder that arrogance and speech had no place in a fight where her life would often be at stake.

Too many gloated and flourished their ability to betray the moment in priority of their tongue; silver as hers might have been, his hand had slapped it back into her mouth with a dire example of her lack of focus. Were she to walk onto the field of battle and act in such a way, the First Order would risk the loss of a Queen and Caehl Ren would no longer have these moments to exchange pleasantries with the one person that stood beyond the image of the Supreme Leader.


[member="Ara Zambrano"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

The sound of the tile cracking beneath his weight as he fell prey to the momentum of her boot was as beautiful as she had hoped. Crimson gaze flashing from his form as he stood and stretched, recovering from the strenuous training session, to the cracked tile, she noted that they weren’t the only ones the session had taken it’s toll on. The room surrounding sported its own shares of scuffs, burns, and dents, a visible reminder that even in training, the pair refused to pull punches.

A soft smile sent another flare of pain through her jaw as she allowed her own blade to die, clipping the warm hit to her belt and moving her hand up to the curve of her face to access the damage. Swiping the back of her hand across her lower lip, a smear of maroon coated the fair skin, a better alternative to spitting the copper liquid onto the floor. Nothing felt broken, although the Master suspected she’d have a vibrant bruise come morning.

“What might be perceived as a weakness by some, can be used as a strength against others.”

Turning herself to face him, she tilted her head with an expression of both annoyance and amusement, twin emotions she often felt around the Knight. The removal of his helmet no longer surprised her, Brennan having long before becoming comfortable enough to wear it only when required around the Arch-Queen. Nor did the ravaged skin of his face cause her to pause, a familiar enough sight that she often gave it no thought as she might have in this past. They shared scars, scars from battle hard fought and hard one, on a planet where both had nearly perished…

Turning her thoughts away from battles long past, she watched him with a thoughtful expression as she pulled the tie out of her hair, letting the locks loose from the braid she had been sporting. Moving across their battlespace, she added a bit more sway into her hips, a predatory light in her eyes as she nearly sauntered, closing the distance between them. A few simple shrugs of her shoulders and the sweat-soaked tunic peeled away from her torso, revealing the equally sweat soaked underclothes that clung to her ribs and the plains of her stomach, one eyebrow arched prettily as she stopped just beside him.

“Besides, you enjoy it when I talk.”

A little arrogance and a teasing purr dripped into her tone as Ara dropped the fabric beside his helmet, seemingly ignoring their proximity. Her lips curled up into a smile as she waited, always one to take the opportunity to test his boundaries and the hard shell he kept wrapped around himself.

Besides, she had to return the favor for the throbbing pain radiating from her cheek.

[member="Caehl Ren"]

 

[WolfMortum]

Turning, his eyes looked down upon her, Ara Zambrano of whom stood beside him now, shedding her training attire for something rather complimentary of her figure. Caehl, while disconnected by choice from much of the presumed human sentiment, was not blind to her behavior nor did it escape him why she acted out in the like that she did. "And what do you perceive my weaknesses to be" his eyes narrowed though the corner of his mouth lifted in a subtle smirk, for all intents and purposes, he seemed to be amused by her trying to get a rise out of him (figuratively speaking).

The Knight of Ren would soon turn in towards her, facing her directly and looking her up and down, no hint of subtlety as his eyes followed the curves of her body, the light garments that she wore, sticking to her skin through the sweat of their training session together. Together they had held nothing back, short of killing one another though there were times where their training allowed them to forget who they were, to embrace the hostility and violence that beneath it all excited them both so much, exchanging blow for blow, hurting one another and yet growing ever the stronger for it both through their pursuit of power and the strength of their partnership.

It wasn't certain as to whether [member="Samka Derith"] had noticed the personal motivations behind the cold exterior of Caehl's facade the day she expressed her interest in retrieving the now Queen from the territories of the Galactic Alliance. She had told him that he was to atone for his failings of the past, something that was in every right the truth for he had failed miserably and yet at the same time, to be the one to help bring Ara back into the First Order's arms and see her once again embrace the life of the Order they followed, while he had done his utmost to ignore it, he was indeed pleased to see her return and prove that she had not turned traitor as suspected.

"You persist in these games of yours...-Why?"

[member="Ara Zambrano"]