The Contention Form (Darth Ophidia)

[Nyte Ignis]

Nyte Ignis, Apprentice to Darth Ferus, -who wasn't though?- grew tired of the grim darkness of the training grounds on Iridonia and asked her Master to allow her time to get to know some of her fellow Sith, and here she was sent. There were many great Darths here on Glee Anselm and she sough one in particular.

Nyte had heard stories of the former Apprentice as a great trainer in the ways of the Force and that [member="Darth Ophidia"] had great pride in her Makashi form. Nyte was seeking to learn more of the same form that she loved. The directness of it, the light touches of combat openness and readiness.

She strayed into the hallways of the Academy here, her body clothed in simple black with light stripes that curved around her thighs and stomach and as always, she wore her hood up over her tattooed face.

She searched the Force, looking for sign of the Darth that she had requested.

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Darth Ophidia found herself more often on Glee Anselm than she liked, these days. However, when her former master asked her to train his apprentice in the Contention Form of lightsabre combat, she could not find it in her to refuse. The Rattataki had much pride in her bladework, though it was rarely what acolytes sought her for. It would be a refreshing break from the habit.

Ophidia sat in the sparring grounds of the Glee Anselm Academy. Her legs were crossed under her in the lotus position and her eyes were half-closed. She sat in such stillness that she could be near presumed dead. Save for the slow movement of her diaphragm, apparent only as a minute movement in the folds of her robe. Her hood was thrown back to expose the ashen-skinned and bald head, making her easier to recognise. The rest of her was covered in a simple, yet elegant robe of soft black materials.

Through the power of the Force, she sought out the apprentice who had so boldly asked for her tuition. Upon finding her, the Pale Assassin left a trail -almost like a scent- between them to lure Nyte Ignis closer.

[member="Nyte Ignis"].

 

[Nyte Ignis]

Nyte slowly followed, her heart beat was going hard and fast in her chest with anticipation of meeting the Darth that could help her, that would teach her the great blade work.

She approached and upon seeing the female, she blinked. This was unexpected but refreshing at the same time. Nyte looked upon the bald head and nodded softly, her black eyes staring deep into her own thoughts for a moment before she reached up to grip the hood of her robe, pushing it backwards until it fell, revealing her tattoos and copper blonde hair. She moved to come sit in front of [member="Darth Ophidia"] on her knees in respect.

"Darth Ophidia, I come seeking your advice and help in the ways of Makashi. I've no blade of my own." She whispered into the Force, finally giving herself a voice to the Darth.

"Please, teach me."

 

[Darth Ophidia]

"So you have, Nyte Ignis."

Her eyelids opened fully to reveal irises that burned like embers against the ashen hue of her skin. Her hands, once cupped in her lap, now ventured to her knees where they would rest. Her presence was less than one would expect, but only because she was holding back. She had shrunken her presence to something less obtrusive, something that called a little less interest to her.

"No blade of your own. That shan't be a problem. Many learn to wield before they own a sabre of their own, and the academy is equipped for such training."

Her right hand lifted from her knee and the fingers extended, then curled. In the far corner of their training area, a case opened and two rods floated out and towards them. The rods had grips covered in leather and emulated the length and approximate weight of a lightsabre. The metallic surface was coated with the venom of pelko bugs to emulate the effects of a lightsabre strike. They would burn and the limb would be useless for a period.

Normally, Darth Ophidia shunned such a merciful way of practice, but she would not throw spare sabres at the Acolyte. If Darth Ferus had not seen fit to arm her, then nor would Ophidia. Not yet, in any case.

[member="Nyte Ignis"]

 

[Nyte Ignis]

Nyte wasn't sure what to say as she remained on her knees, having a feeling that she was about to come up from the position as she watched Darth Ophidia bring the mock lightsabers into her field of vision.

Nyte blinked and awaited further instructions, already though, she could feel the anticipation of a fight about to happen. Being raised in a fighting culture, she knew that feeling. It coursed through her like a wave of pheromones, her body tensing as she kept her black eyes focused on Darth Ophidia. Nyte could feel her own connection to the Force starting to branch out now. After several months of training with Darth Ferus, she had become closer to the Force, feeling embraced by it now instead of just a blimp on the radar.

She inhaled, focusing on the coursing blood inside of her. She knew those training lightsabers all too well, playing with them over the years in and out of combat. She knew the basics of lightsaber combat methods and even the more detailed facts of Makashi but she had never truly practiced them against some one else.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

As the practice sabres came floating within reach, Darth Ophidia wrapped her pale fingers around the shaft of one. The other would float into the reach of Nyte. If Nyte did not catch it, the rod would hit her in the head and the lesson would be over far too soon. Ophidia rose in a single graceful motion and stepped away from Nyte while twirling the metal rod between her fingers. The Rattataki's eyes appeared to stare forward into nothingness, but at the same time see every motion Nyte made.

"Let me see your stance first."

She circled Nyte like a predator. The sabre swished back and forth by subtle movements of her fingers, making a threatening sound every time as if to illustrate the pain that would emerge should one be struck with the instrument. Ophidia's other hand remained behind her back, forming a fist in the small of her back to keep it out of the path of her sabre. Even so, it was present enough to use the Force.

[member="Nyte Ignis"]

 

[Nyte Ignis]

Nyte caught the practice hilt easily, this wasn't her first time at using one of these luckily. She knew the basics of Makashi, the origin and the uses but had no actual formal training.

As she stood up swiftly to match Darth Ophidia, her gaze locked onto the female's eyes, watching, staring back into everything. Then the directive came from her lips and Nyte nodded once, curtly in understanding.

“Makashi, Contention, effortlessly turns opponent's attacks into my own counterattacks.”

As she stood, her shoulders were loose enough and just knee width apart, standing with her fingers curled and her thumb pointing the same way as the blade, her body to the side of herself, her eyes watching Darth Ophidia easily as she circled, but Nyte also felt her in the Force, keeping herself trained in on her.

Nyte knew that the woman was sizing her, judging her, she had been in similar positions, being sized for arena combat, for a life of fighting. She tensed though, her free arm dropped to her back, hooking just under her belt to also keep it safely out of harm's way.

Though if Ophidia was trying to scare Nyte with the sounds of the training saber, she might feel disappointed as the young girl remained calm and collected under the stress. Most might fidget or try to stay away from where the sound came from, Nyte stood there, absorbing the sounds as one would a melody to a lilting song, waiting for judgement and eventual corrections.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Ophidia was indeed sizing her up. She was pleased that the acolyte didn't shy away from the cruel sound of the rod. As such, she passed it to her other hand and held it behind her back. The Rattatki's right hand pressed against [member="Nyte Ignis"] lower back as she turned the girl's hip a fraction She checked the shoulders and the straightness of Nyte's back.

"Correct. It also relies on quick, fluent and unpredictable strikes to slip past the opponent's defences. It is a form of finesse, without being devoid of power."

Ophidia adjusted Nyte's elbow, better aligning it with the shoulder. A small smile twitched in the corner of her mouth as she saw that the acolyte was holding with the thumb up. She had obviously done her homework. Seeing Nyte's hand hooked at the belt, she tugged it out and placed it on the acolyte's hip.
"Don't tuck your hand away. Keep it out of the way, but available. You will need it."

Balance, defence against the Force, surprise attacks. The off-hand was a tool of many surprises. If blades were locked, it could deliver a fatal punch or thrust with a hidden weapon. It could also be used to channel the Force in form of lightning, pushes and pulls.

 

[Nyte Ignis]

Nyte looked back, watching Ophidia, her eyes following those fingers as they worked. Nyte rested her chin on her shoulder, her black eyes watching intently as the Assassin adjusted her stance and angles.

She could attempt to show off here, striking out at her instructor but she chose not to, her head tilting slightly. She had done that before, in the arena on Eshan, her inspector was too close and she elbowed him straight to the bridge of the nose.

She had to laugh slightly at the thought though, “Of course Darth Ophidia.” She let a small smirk curve the corner of her mouth. Her hand stayed near her hip while she felt through the Force, waiting further instruction and lessons.

“Everything in Contention is about balancing pros and cons. I am at war with you as you war with me. We are connected through that and your moves become my own.”

Nyte thought of the Eshan saying, “Your opposition is yourself, your imagination sets you free.”

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Ophidia nodded at the Acolyte's word. She found so many of those she trained to be a little... slow. This one, however, had a certain grasp of what it meant to be Sith. It would seem Darth Ferus had done a good job so far.

"Quite right, Acolyte Ignis."

While seemingly concerned with watching Nyte's stance, Ophidia suddenly swung her practice-sabre in swift, but elegant arc against nyte's own practice weapon. While it appeared somewhat nonchalant, it was far from devoid of power as she tested whether or not the acolyte had a good grip on her weapon. Far too many Acolytes were too lax or too firm in their grip. Either their movements were stiff and predictable, or they had no power. Again the contention form wished to find the perfect balance. If Nyte was too stiff in her grip, the blade would probably slip from her grip. If she was too relaxed, Ophidia would see the blade knocked into the Acolyte's face.

[member="Nyte Ignis"]

 

[Nyte Ignis]

Nyte smiled, she felt that Ophidia rarely said that to many people. Nyte felt a pull towards Ophidia, an attraction of awe and respect, something that she rarely felt.

Then she noticed the look in Ophidia's eye, felt the slight muscle twitch, her wrist quickly flicking up to deflect the blade, letting it bounce slightly before her grip tighten just barely to quiet the blade. Then she cocked her head, looking Ophidia in the eyes, marking the deflection of the blade in her own mind, cockiness under that look, but not as a challenge to the great Darth Ophidia, but as a match of instinct.

Nyte had felt the sting of these practice blades before, her own personal training had driven her to paralyze her own hand once, gripping the blade to pick it up while she was younger and awaiting training at the old Sith Academy.

But it was her years of fighting on Eshan that taught her how to hold a blade, learning quickly the natural art of blade work and dueling, the arena constantly saving her life and driving her deeper into the deadly knowledge of the squish of blood, the sweet spray.

Nyte relaxed her grip once more, returning it to the corrected position, keeping the blade where she had deflected unless Darth Ophidia made another move against her.

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

Darth Ophidia allowed [member="Nyte Ignis"] to return to the stance, and took her own position opposed to Nyte. Her weight shifted over to the balls of her feet, and her back extended up while her hips were relaxed. Her shoulders were turned more or less towards Nyte, but not entirely. This gave her space to move back and forth, to retract and advance. Quick as a serpent's bite, she moved her blade from a neutral position to a thrust.

"Makashi works lineally in the basics. You advance and retreat. Use your feet as much as your hands, and to outmanoeuvre your opponent."

Her footwork was light, almost without sound as she stepped forwards into the thrust. Her balance was kept throughout the movement and there was absolutely no pause from one movement to the next. It was as though she danced through her blade-work, and yet it came through with considerable power. It was through conjoining the motion of her joints she could pierce through any defence.

[member="Nyte Ignis"]

 

[Nyte Ignis]

[member="Darth Ophidia"]

(Extra sorry, for some reason it didn't post what I had written like a month ago x.x)

Nyte watched as the woman danced and moved, the young girl staring at the footwork of this silent Master.

Nyte quickly parried and the dance was now partnered, moving back and forth with Ophidia, the practice blade occasionally leaving the blade of the Makashi master.

Nyte admired Darth Ophidia, how stealthy she was in everything, how focused and determined she was. Nyte was proud to learn under this woman as well as Darth Ferus, who had a penchant for being, well not-so-stealthy.

As they moved, Nyte made a quick adjustment, sliding herself into Ophidia's space, keeping to the outside, her black eyes came to focus on Ophy's, "How does one counter these movements Darth Ophidia? Certainly it isn't this straight forward. How do you use this against other forms. Please, teach me?"