She Left Behind A Legacy
The Lecture
"...lightsaber forms answer a lot of inherent weaknesses. They can range from the physical limitations of age, injury, species. Or they can go much more personal and emotional. All of these things must be considered when trying to decide how best to defend all the virtues and innocents we stand for. Being a Jedi isn't an easy task, and once you view the lightsaber in it's proper context everything becomes much easier." Wraith unclipped one of his electrum hilts and pressed the activation switch on it, the amethyst blade sprung to life and the smell of ozone flooded his nostrils as the very air burned from the blade. That unmistakable sound of it's activation was still ringing in his ears as he twirled the blade in his hand for a moment.
Snap-hiss
"This is a tool, and an extension of who we are. It's not a possession, but an expression of who we are." He pointed to the matching hilt on his belt.
"I was the only Vaapad Master walking around and breathing, and that was a test. So if you notice, my hilt isn't very detailed save for it's electrum finish and a few gold stylings to indicate my standing in the Order. I need maximum gripping surface to change directions, and my grips at will. My blades become a blur of motion, and I need to not be unhindered when channeling the superconducting loop that forms the very heart of how I defend." He pressed the switch again, and the amethyst blade deactivated.
"I'll even be honest with you on something that not many know. I was put on the path to Vaapad because I had all the Force potential in the world, but my personal life and my missions were failing. I was on the verge of becoming a horror story of someone falling..."
He turned melancholy remembering his hard times.
"I found myself in that loop, and learned to channel my own lust for combat and the need to right the wrongs I saw into Vaapad."
"What is on the road to becoming a Battlemaster..." she posed the question, shifting her stance.
"I'll run you a list of all things considered...but none of which make a Battlemaster," the Lion of the Jedi stood solid. His compact frame lent him strength, but his demeanor screamed classic Jedi.
"But also, the willingness to learn. To adjust to adversity." He perked his head, "All of these things or a few can afford someone to fulfill the role."
She took that in, realizing that she had checked each of those boxes albeit not on purpose. When she abdicated the role of Grand Master she left the flux of the Order in search of higher learning. She studied with the Bendu, mastered Trakata, had learned martial arts from Morgukai Assassins, espionage from Alliance ops, and over time she studied the use of Jar'kai and learned to use a shoto. Her peers had always noted her strength in the Force...and she learned a lot about tactics and warfare from Sol Stazi and Coren Starchaser.
And this was all before she became a Shadow Hand...and the things she saw the Sith do on both sides of the fence shook her to the core, but made her well-rounded.
None of that came from a place of wanting to for the sake of wanting to...Romi had always been the type to prep for anything, and that's why she diversified her skillset the way she did.
----
Dueling Sessions
They exchanged blows, each retreating and attacking in turn. One would marvel at the complexity of the Force flows around them. The fluid displays of swordsmanship here was altogether different. Both sought to push the other to the limit, and relied on guile and skill and strength to do it. They shifted through a myriad of modes of; the object was not to do damage, but to force the other person to prevent damage.
The smell of ozone flooded his nose. Echoes of his footfall accelerated as he started sprinting over the distance towards her. Dust trailed in his wake as he finally brought the blade up in a two handed grip before flying into an unpredictable flurry of strikes. First just as his right foot hit the ground, a left two handed slash from right to left at her left elbow. Then the blade went high over his left shoulder and undercut right towards her right hip in a windmill type motion. The staccato pattern continued, his blade a blur, as he came into his element. With each strike, his feet constantly moved forward as his blade resembled lilac fire reigning on the blonde.
Vaapad had returned.
In a span of a single second, it seemed she had to drum up a raging storm of red snakes, the kind of a brilliant shade; blade met blade in a furious display of sparks. She didn't falter under his pressure. There was no wall of defense, he'd be met with one quick and subtle bend of the waist -- she anticipated his move and leaned away from it, bringing her left leg across she curved her body a few degrees off the edge of his amethyst whip; but barely. The she swept her arm down into a circular parry, fanning her blade in bright display, that'd throw his blade just off its intended course. She allowed him to continue his advance, her movements shifted to a linear retreat. Her wrist twisted deftly to disengage the shining blades.
Efficiency met aggression. Vaapad was all ferocity, aggression that was fueled by your opponent. Every strike was offense, defense was secondary. There were no parries, only changes in tempo. True masters could make their blade appear as many, truly becoming one with the Force and letting the superconducting loop truly work. Speed and power were just the results of the work that one did on the inside, showing the true mastery of self. Few could manage the physical movements, even fewer could pull off the mental side that was so rigorous.
Like hell, the road to Vaapad was littered with good intentions.
"You're going to have to learn the movement concepts to comprehend Vaapad."
A beat.
She flourished her blade, leaving white flares of afterimages in its wake. The two stood and stared for a long while, neither blinking, the test of wills before re-engaging. Then she launched herself into a whirling lightsaber attack, cloaking herself behind a basket of scarlet light.
He backpedaled, parrying, absorbing the shock of her attacks with bent arms and a two-handed grip. He was taller than her, with more reach and weight, and vastly more muscle in his upper body, but she drove him backward. He stopped, tensed his back leg and stroke his blade in a downward arc meant to open her up from shoulder to thigh. She curved her body, and ducked underneath whipping her blade up and over her back to block; his weapon slide down in a flurry of sparks. They spun out, away from each other following their forward momentum and then swung their bodes back around and interlocked blades before scurrying back.
She'd never fought an opponent who used Vaapad before...and the legend concerning Grand Master Wraith was holding true. They said that the human body was capable of extraordinary feats of strength when in extremes. For a Jedi, it was something else entirely; at times it was only her athleticism and endurance that allowed her to almost match his pace. But those who know her knew she was a fighter... she would come in for the kill, again and again, until he was worn down and too weak to fend her off.
The room lit up in violence and red and purple fire. One...two...three...all hits in a matter of seconds, the pair moved in a circular pattern; The deeper they descended, the darker and danker became the surroundings. She deflected his first thrust down and to the left and went back to guard just in time to parry another thrust that came close to getting under her guard. Purple flame struck through her guard, and only a frantic jerk of her head turned what would have been a brain-burning thrust into a line of char along her cheekbone.
She swiveled her wrist and cut into the trajectory of his blade and whipped it through a circular motion until hers was on top, she flicked the weapon in a arc across slashing wide like a flash of scarlet lightning but he had jumped back out of the way...a second later and that would have carved a path through his chest.
Darron decided to move on the attack. He dropped his left hand from the saber's grip and extended his blade in a one-handed thrust to give himself more reach as he advanced toward Romi. But she would have none of that. She brought her lightsaber crashing down at the tip of his blade, striking with maximum violence at precisely the angle required to knock his blade downward. She pivoted around and snapped up her foot sideways, catching the man in the chest. He was knocked into a backflip but in midrotation he threw out a hand and knocked her back with a force shove.
Ehuh!
She collided with the ground, and honestly at this point she was feeling tired. A few long and drawn out sessions with him was putting her on her last leg. Darron had suddenly landed heavily on both feet and brought his blade down so close to Romi's head that she felt the hum of his blade echo through her whole body. The crack was deafening. She brought the right side of her body across and it missed her but barely... she wasn't even thinking when she began to roll. When she stopped she brought her right leg through a windmill motion before leverage her momentum and leverage to throw herself back up. The light from her blade turned her sweat into an iridescent sheen visible on her face and bare arms.
He was on her again, faster than her sharp intake of breath. His saber flashed, and all she could remember was that he was going for her midsection.
Swiveling her hilt, she took a reverse grip -- the highlighted sheen over her skin left her as she flipped her scarlet blade in rapid succession. Swinging back and forth, she frantically batted his weapon away from her lower body.
One.
Two.
She caught the last one, flattening her palm on the hilt again as she manipulated her wrist to slice into his weapons trajectory. She inclined her saber a few degrees downward, a straight block shifting into a leading parry; it was angled towards his oncoming strike. She forced his blade only a couple of degrees off its intended mark. They would interlock. Her left foot was parallel with his leading foot, with him advancing and pushing against her, his balance would be inevitably off its usual cue -- she could trip him up. Or, she could run her blade up his hilt and hope to send those fingers flying.
By doing this, the Queen of Air & Darkness was forcing his hand...he could break off the saber sequence entirely or move into some sort of swift flank strike...
But wasting any more precious secon -- he broke off and her world lit up again in purple fire, putting her on the backpedal. She opted not to waste time blocking what she couldn't keep up with. He swung for her chest, she angled back and cut into his blade driving it away, he retorted with an even faster sweep for her right leg, and she deftly levitated her leg and stepped over it. He spun around and dug his elbow in her stomach, her midsection lit on fire before she was flipped and planted on her back.
She rolled away from the jab that would have impaled her through the back, landing on her stomach with her free hand planted she propelled herself up.
Both on their knees at this point, she frantically sought to gain the upper hand, throwing a clumsy sweep from right to left. He easily ducked under, but she had come around on her feet and free hand; she dug her upper foot into his neck, before crossing it with her left. She tensed her legs muscles to flip him over, planting his frame into the ground.
Not concerned with where he was after, she brought her legs back and then forward to flip herself upright before launching herself into the air and coming down with a flashing stroke of scarlet energy. He met her head on, stonewalling before catching the back of her saber arm at the elbow with his free hand. He was gonna cut from left to right, sheering through her back but she propelled herself up and through a backflip, going right over his blade -- close quarters.
One.
Two.
Three...and they locked again. She tilted her blade out, thumbing the switch off as he fell forward, and she spun to elbow him in the face before he retaliated throwing her back into a far wall via the Force.
She slid down, falling to one knee in a bit of a heavy pant.
"You did well...more than well actually." he signaled the end of this session.
"...lightsaber forms answer a lot of inherent weaknesses. They can range from the physical limitations of age, injury, species. Or they can go much more personal and emotional. All of these things must be considered when trying to decide how best to defend all the virtues and innocents we stand for. Being a Jedi isn't an easy task, and once you view the lightsaber in it's proper context everything becomes much easier." Wraith unclipped one of his electrum hilts and pressed the activation switch on it, the amethyst blade sprung to life and the smell of ozone flooded his nostrils as the very air burned from the blade. That unmistakable sound of it's activation was still ringing in his ears as he twirled the blade in his hand for a moment.
Snap-hiss
"This is a tool, and an extension of who we are. It's not a possession, but an expression of who we are." He pointed to the matching hilt on his belt.
"I was the only Vaapad Master walking around and breathing, and that was a test. So if you notice, my hilt isn't very detailed save for it's electrum finish and a few gold stylings to indicate my standing in the Order. I need maximum gripping surface to change directions, and my grips at will. My blades become a blur of motion, and I need to not be unhindered when channeling the superconducting loop that forms the very heart of how I defend." He pressed the switch again, and the amethyst blade deactivated.
"I'll even be honest with you on something that not many know. I was put on the path to Vaapad because I had all the Force potential in the world, but my personal life and my missions were failing. I was on the verge of becoming a horror story of someone falling..."
He turned melancholy remembering his hard times.
"I found myself in that loop, and learned to channel my own lust for combat and the need to right the wrongs I saw into Vaapad."
"What is on the road to becoming a Battlemaster..." she posed the question, shifting her stance.
"I'll run you a list of all things considered...but none of which make a Battlemaster," the Lion of the Jedi stood solid. His compact frame lent him strength, but his demeanor screamed classic Jedi.
- Lightsaber Form Training/Practice/Instruction
- Proficiency in a variety of types of lightsabers or weapons
- Unarmed Combat
- Force Potential
- Tactics & Warfare
"But also, the willingness to learn. To adjust to adversity." He perked his head, "All of these things or a few can afford someone to fulfill the role."
She took that in, realizing that she had checked each of those boxes albeit not on purpose. When she abdicated the role of Grand Master she left the flux of the Order in search of higher learning. She studied with the Bendu, mastered Trakata, had learned martial arts from Morgukai Assassins, espionage from Alliance ops, and over time she studied the use of Jar'kai and learned to use a shoto. Her peers had always noted her strength in the Force...and she learned a lot about tactics and warfare from Sol Stazi and Coren Starchaser.
And this was all before she became a Shadow Hand...and the things she saw the Sith do on both sides of the fence shook her to the core, but made her well-rounded.
None of that came from a place of wanting to for the sake of wanting to...Romi had always been the type to prep for anything, and that's why she diversified her skillset the way she did.
----
Dueling Sessions
They exchanged blows, each retreating and attacking in turn. One would marvel at the complexity of the Force flows around them. The fluid displays of swordsmanship here was altogether different. Both sought to push the other to the limit, and relied on guile and skill and strength to do it. They shifted through a myriad of modes of; the object was not to do damage, but to force the other person to prevent damage.
The smell of ozone flooded his nose. Echoes of his footfall accelerated as he started sprinting over the distance towards her. Dust trailed in his wake as he finally brought the blade up in a two handed grip before flying into an unpredictable flurry of strikes. First just as his right foot hit the ground, a left two handed slash from right to left at her left elbow. Then the blade went high over his left shoulder and undercut right towards her right hip in a windmill type motion. The staccato pattern continued, his blade a blur, as he came into his element. With each strike, his feet constantly moved forward as his blade resembled lilac fire reigning on the blonde.
Vaapad had returned.
In a span of a single second, it seemed she had to drum up a raging storm of red snakes, the kind of a brilliant shade; blade met blade in a furious display of sparks. She didn't falter under his pressure. There was no wall of defense, he'd be met with one quick and subtle bend of the waist -- she anticipated his move and leaned away from it, bringing her left leg across she curved her body a few degrees off the edge of his amethyst whip; but barely. The she swept her arm down into a circular parry, fanning her blade in bright display, that'd throw his blade just off its intended course. She allowed him to continue his advance, her movements shifted to a linear retreat. Her wrist twisted deftly to disengage the shining blades.
Efficiency met aggression. Vaapad was all ferocity, aggression that was fueled by your opponent. Every strike was offense, defense was secondary. There were no parries, only changes in tempo. True masters could make their blade appear as many, truly becoming one with the Force and letting the superconducting loop truly work. Speed and power were just the results of the work that one did on the inside, showing the true mastery of self. Few could manage the physical movements, even fewer could pull off the mental side that was so rigorous.
Like hell, the road to Vaapad was littered with good intentions.
"You're going to have to learn the movement concepts to comprehend Vaapad."
A beat.
She flourished her blade, leaving white flares of afterimages in its wake. The two stood and stared for a long while, neither blinking, the test of wills before re-engaging. Then she launched herself into a whirling lightsaber attack, cloaking herself behind a basket of scarlet light.
He backpedaled, parrying, absorbing the shock of her attacks with bent arms and a two-handed grip. He was taller than her, with more reach and weight, and vastly more muscle in his upper body, but she drove him backward. He stopped, tensed his back leg and stroke his blade in a downward arc meant to open her up from shoulder to thigh. She curved her body, and ducked underneath whipping her blade up and over her back to block; his weapon slide down in a flurry of sparks. They spun out, away from each other following their forward momentum and then swung their bodes back around and interlocked blades before scurrying back.
She'd never fought an opponent who used Vaapad before...and the legend concerning Grand Master Wraith was holding true. They said that the human body was capable of extraordinary feats of strength when in extremes. For a Jedi, it was something else entirely; at times it was only her athleticism and endurance that allowed her to almost match his pace. But those who know her knew she was a fighter... she would come in for the kill, again and again, until he was worn down and too weak to fend her off.
The room lit up in violence and red and purple fire. One...two...three...all hits in a matter of seconds, the pair moved in a circular pattern; The deeper they descended, the darker and danker became the surroundings. She deflected his first thrust down and to the left and went back to guard just in time to parry another thrust that came close to getting under her guard. Purple flame struck through her guard, and only a frantic jerk of her head turned what would have been a brain-burning thrust into a line of char along her cheekbone.
She swiveled her wrist and cut into the trajectory of his blade and whipped it through a circular motion until hers was on top, she flicked the weapon in a arc across slashing wide like a flash of scarlet lightning but he had jumped back out of the way...a second later and that would have carved a path through his chest.
Darron decided to move on the attack. He dropped his left hand from the saber's grip and extended his blade in a one-handed thrust to give himself more reach as he advanced toward Romi. But she would have none of that. She brought her lightsaber crashing down at the tip of his blade, striking with maximum violence at precisely the angle required to knock his blade downward. She pivoted around and snapped up her foot sideways, catching the man in the chest. He was knocked into a backflip but in midrotation he threw out a hand and knocked her back with a force shove.
Ehuh!
She collided with the ground, and honestly at this point she was feeling tired. A few long and drawn out sessions with him was putting her on her last leg. Darron had suddenly landed heavily on both feet and brought his blade down so close to Romi's head that she felt the hum of his blade echo through her whole body. The crack was deafening. She brought the right side of her body across and it missed her but barely... she wasn't even thinking when she began to roll. When she stopped she brought her right leg through a windmill motion before leverage her momentum and leverage to throw herself back up. The light from her blade turned her sweat into an iridescent sheen visible on her face and bare arms.
He was on her again, faster than her sharp intake of breath. His saber flashed, and all she could remember was that he was going for her midsection.
Swiveling her hilt, she took a reverse grip -- the highlighted sheen over her skin left her as she flipped her scarlet blade in rapid succession. Swinging back and forth, she frantically batted his weapon away from her lower body.
One.
Two.
She caught the last one, flattening her palm on the hilt again as she manipulated her wrist to slice into his weapons trajectory. She inclined her saber a few degrees downward, a straight block shifting into a leading parry; it was angled towards his oncoming strike. She forced his blade only a couple of degrees off its intended mark. They would interlock. Her left foot was parallel with his leading foot, with him advancing and pushing against her, his balance would be inevitably off its usual cue -- she could trip him up. Or, she could run her blade up his hilt and hope to send those fingers flying.
By doing this, the Queen of Air & Darkness was forcing his hand...he could break off the saber sequence entirely or move into some sort of swift flank strike...
But wasting any more precious secon -- he broke off and her world lit up again in purple fire, putting her on the backpedal. She opted not to waste time blocking what she couldn't keep up with. He swung for her chest, she angled back and cut into his blade driving it away, he retorted with an even faster sweep for her right leg, and she deftly levitated her leg and stepped over it. He spun around and dug his elbow in her stomach, her midsection lit on fire before she was flipped and planted on her back.
She rolled away from the jab that would have impaled her through the back, landing on her stomach with her free hand planted she propelled herself up.
Both on their knees at this point, she frantically sought to gain the upper hand, throwing a clumsy sweep from right to left. He easily ducked under, but she had come around on her feet and free hand; she dug her upper foot into his neck, before crossing it with her left. She tensed her legs muscles to flip him over, planting his frame into the ground.
Not concerned with where he was after, she brought her legs back and then forward to flip herself upright before launching herself into the air and coming down with a flashing stroke of scarlet energy. He met her head on, stonewalling before catching the back of her saber arm at the elbow with his free hand. He was gonna cut from left to right, sheering through her back but she propelled herself up and through a backflip, going right over his blade -- close quarters.
One.
Two.
Three...and they locked again. She tilted her blade out, thumbing the switch off as he fell forward, and she spun to elbow him in the face before he retaliated throwing her back into a far wall via the Force.
She slid down, falling to one knee in a bit of a heavy pant.
"You did well...more than well actually." he signaled the end of this session.
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