Young Volcanoes

[Ara Zambrano]

Location: Bastion of Ren

The last few days had been a whirlwind. Sieger Ren had been to the Bastion to inspire or punish them, Ara still wasn’t sure, but he had ignited a flame in many of her fellow knights and disciples.

Fellow Knights.

The thought made her smile as she settled the last of her pillows on the new bed, glancing around at her new lodging. Larger than before, the newly promoted Knight had spent a majority of the morning moving her things into her new rooms. Rooms. She moved from the bedroom with separate washroom into the small living area with kitchenette. A soft smile had been in place since being given her new living assignment and seeing the extra space afforded her with her new station. The quarters reminded her of the small suite she’d rented on Coruscant, it’s lack of windows and stone work walls the only difference. The Bastion of Ren had been home for a few months, but now it was truly beginning to feel like it.

Sometime in the days after Sieger had left the Ren with his painful warning and rallying cry, she and two of her fellow Disciples, Kaalia and Zmej, had been awarded the rank of Knight. It was an unexpected honor and one she intended to take full advantage of. Her wardrobe had been updated to include new armor and weapons from the vault for her personal use, but Ba’Vanim, her saber, still hung from the belt at her waist. The vault had been the first place she’d chosen to visit after receiving the news, her small room now containing a collection of new toys to train and fight with.

The most difficult part of the promotion was losing her Master and dedicated sparring partner, Talon Ren. He was still an enigma to her, despite months spent training and practicing almost every morning. She didn’t know his story or his true name and honestly, her curiosity was piqued. Her respect for the man was higher than anyone else’s, even that of their Supreme Leader. Now he was a Master of Ren, the first that she knew of and Ara was poised to take her own Apprentice should she choose.

A deep chuckle escaped her throat as the thought crossed her mind. It was true that her skills had improved drastically since leaving her once home and joining with the Ren, but she was far from complete on her journey. She would be happy to impart what knowledge she could, but somehow she thought that there were others better….suited to training the new disciples than she was. It would probably be frowned upon if she threw her apprentice into a pool at the end of a spar as had been known to happen around the girl.

Shaking her head at the memory with a laugh, she grabbed her black and red cloak from a nearby chair, wrapping it around her shoulders and shrugging to help the cloth settle faster. Her boots clicked on the floor as she made her way across the stone floor, stopping long enough to activate the lock pad and slide the door to her apartments open. Speak of the devil, she had an appointment to keep with the same Disciple who’d been the cause, and recipient of that watery ending.

Turning right, she traversed the corridors of the Bastion easily, heading towards the training wing. War was coming and she’d never turn down the chance to get an extra round of exercise in.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor walked around the room, flexing his shoulders, rolling his wrists, stretching his back. Agreeing to meet Ara in the training wing was always something he would do, but now she officially eclipsed him in rank. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Chuckling, he paced in a large circle while he waited for her to arrive. He was dressed in his basics again - the vest of comfort and combat trousers and boots. An array of melee weapons rested on the back wall inside a steel cabinet, and daylight streamed in from a skylight above with a slight drizzle of rain in the air.

After the visit by the Supreme Leader, Connor felt a little different. Like he really did have eyes on him, and he was part of a unit who had to drastically make a stand in the First Order. That stand was Mustafar, and it would be soon. A war for the Mustafar Hex against the Galactic Alliance.

Finding he had stopped in his tracks whilst thinking what the coming battle would bring professionally and personally, the dull click of heels caught his attention and he turned to the circular entrance.

Walking towards it, he saw Ara coming through.

He smiled at his lover walking with a new air of confidence.

"Knight Ara,” he gasped, and kneeled. "My respects to you.”

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

The knight would never be able to sneak up on him, nor vice versa. The closer she came to the training wing, the stronger the pull towards a familiar dark aura that was nestled deep within the halls of the Bastion. An easy smile curled her lips as it grew closer, the knowledge that she had in some ways helped shape and mold the darkness she felt a point of pride. Yes, they had almost killed each other in the process, but they had made it through, stronger and more powerful.

Turning into the small training room, she noted the assortment of weapons available for their use and lack of shallow pool. This was a different room from the one she liked meditating and training on her own in. Her eyebrows crinkled in amusement, wondering if the man had tired of being thrown into the water from their last few encounters.

Her entrance was met with a comedic bow and announcement of her new title, one eyebrow winging up at the display. Stalking forward with a predatory grin, she knelt in front of him, wrapping a hand around his neck, leaning in to place her lips by his ear.

"Are you always this infuriating, Mr. Harrison? Or am I just lucky?” She purred in his ear a low chuckle attesting to her humor, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Pulling away from him, she tilted her head, long hair spilling over one shoulder as she inspected the planes of his face from inches away. The knot in her gut was still present, a mixture of worries, fears, and insecurities that could hardly be banished by one night of pleasure. The urge to lean in for a kiss was strong, but she stood and resisted her instincts. Today was about training and Ara doubted a kiss would lead to anything remotely resembling it.

”Careful that mouth does not bring you more trouble than you can handle, Connor.”

The double meaning and steel in her eyes made the statement a tease and a challenge, an undercurrent of every interaction they'd had, flirting mixed with power plays and strength. Unclasping her cloak from her shoulders, she moved to one side of the room, the folded fabric placed on the ground in a corner of the room, accompanied by most of the outer robes she wore. A simple sleeveless undertunic, pants, and belt were left, her usual workout ensemble.

Taking a moment to stretch, she waited for the sarcastic response she expected. One of the many reasons she was drawn to the man was his willingness to match her wit for wit.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

"No,” he smiled as she walked past and he rose, "I’ve been told I’m always like this. No special treatment for you.”

As she began to prepare herself, Connor rubbed his hands together, ignoring her last comment that was so obviously there for a wonderfully witty counter. Instead, he thought about what actually the lesson – or lessons – of the day would be.

"Since you officially out-rank me in the eyes of the First Order, then you will be the one teaching me, right?”

He started to sway gently on his heels from side to side, and glanced at her scar that had given her the first time they had done this. What would be the marks left from their now third spar session.

"But, of course, we all know my experience deftly our-ranks yours, so, I will equally teach you when you put a foot wrong, and vice versa, ok?”

Connor knew he was sounding uppity, and the gentle look on his face confirmed it. And with that, his hands fell by his side.

"So. Teacher. What’s on the agenda first.”

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Chuckling at his comment as she continued to stretch, she hid her disappointment that he hadn’t risen to her bait behind a soft smile. Another few stretches to the side before she straightened, shaking her head and sending her hair flying. A dramatic eyeroll accompanied the move, it appeared he was going to rib her for the promotion for as long as he could manage.

A familiar smirk turned up her mouth as she inspected him from a distance.

”Depends on what you want to learn.” A wink accompanied her low purr.

Moving to the far wall to investigate the weapons available, the skin between the bridge of her nose and eyebrows wrinkling in distaste. Her saber beckoned her from her belt, the crystal within calling the be used and activated. Reaching down to it and unclasping it from its clip, she spun the metal in her hand for a moment before turning back to Connor with a raised eyebrow.

”Oh really? Is that a challenge, Connor?”

Her voice curled with anticipation, his words sparking that kernel of competition within. Her eyes blazed with fire, the amber ring around her irises flashing as she connected with the force. Her hand snapped out, a wall of power aimed at sending the man flying with a thought. The hilt of her saber was tossed onto the pile of fabric in the corner, her gaze never breaking from the disciple in front of her.

”Show me what you can do then. Force powers only. The lesson is over when one of us is too tired to defend or if we lose control.”

Another movement of her hand sent tendrils of power to wrap around his throat, closing around his windpipe and slowing the flow of air. Time to see how much he had learned, and how strong she had grown.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

The good thing about spending so much time with an ally, is that you began to understand them more and more. To know their movement, their stance, their pattern. Ara was becoming an open book to Connor in all sorts of ways, which was probably bad for a spar, but priceless when it mattered most – in battle.

Standing ever ready and waiting for her attack and show of force, he didn’t look away as she took her hilt. He would have time to move if she activated it. Her energy came outwards to push him back, and as her stance changed for the usual opening statement of power, Connor simply splayed his hands out and created a shield of energy before him to absorb her blow with only a small ripple of air between them.

He nodded once at her terms of combat, and then felt her grip on his throat, there to simply hold him in place. She wasn’t going to render him unconscious – she was showing off and toying with him. She was also a Knight. He was but a Disciple. If there was one thing Connor Harrison loathed, it was being the weaker of two, and now he was going to fight for the right to be winner.

His eyes gleamed with the dark amber bleeding in from the edge as he called the Dark Side from his very being. Ara was a target. An obstacle to remove in his progression to the title of Master once more.

Too tired to defend, or lose control.

He would never lose control. If he did, Ara would die.

So began the way to break her grip on him – pull her fear to the front of her mind.

Both hands twisted in clawed fingers as Abyss had taught him, and the depth perception of the Coruscant fall would make her feel everything but stable on her feet. The wind, the sky-lane noise, the nauseating feeling would all be there – sure, she would be standing in a training room looking at Connor Harrison, but her mind would be telling her otherwise.

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

An emotionless expression settled on the Knight’s face as she fired off the first assault, noting his easy repelling of her push with a force barrier. Not unexpected, but in her mind a waste of power. A push backwards was easy enough to recover from and he might need that energy later, when it mattered most.

His eyes bled to amber as he pulled his own power from the Dark Side, that familiar gaze glowing with the lust for battle and the glow of power. Closing her hand, she increased the force on his windpipe as he countered with his own attack.

Just as he understood her, her inner workings, her attacks, her patterns, she also understood his. Just as weeks ago he had dredged up memories of her past, he did so now, but she was prepared and stronger than before.

The first of many images flashed through her mind, the wind whipping past her, the flashes of metal and neon as her body fell towards the duracrete below. For a moment, her grip on the force faltered, her attack breaking off as her chest seized up in fear. Just as quickly as the emotion took hold, she slammed a barrier into place, cutting off his attack. She was far from perfect, the ability to guard her mind something that could only be improved in sparring situations such as this, but it was enough to loosen the threads of fear wrapped around her.

The memories cascade past her mind, disorienting her, but none took hold of her mind. Still standing in the depths of the Bastion facing her friend, lover, and current opponent, she let the fear and pain wash over her.

Talon was nothing if not thorough in her training and as he’d said at their first meeting, fear was a powerful tool in the arsenal of the Ren and Sith alike. While most attributed that to mean the fear of another, Ara knew her own fear could fuel her connection with the force and bring her strength. Wrapping herself in a cocoon of power, she pushed against his attack, the power she grew within strengthening her mental shields until the images faded away and her vision cleared.

Nodding once in acknowledgement, she snapped her power outward, pulling instead of pushing, attempting to sweep his legs out from under him. Both hands outstretched, she mirrored his motions, returning his attack for her own. Instead of dredging up memories, she sought to implant her own. The flowing rivers of magma littered with the bodies of the Ren, she planted the seeds of doubt.

Her own gaze burned in a swirling mix of amber and sulfur as the onslaught continued, flashes of battles raging, his allies cut down one by one as he failed to protect them from the faceless specters burning with the light.

You are weak. You are nothing. They will die because of you. We will die because of you.

Pulling no punches with the images, the deaths of Kaalia, Mishel, Samka, and even Ara herself would play in a reel, each time, the ex-Jedi unable to save his allies from the fate that awaited them.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor held the visions in Ara’s mind, and he felt the grip loosen on this throat, but saw the flash of amber in her eyes as she battled the demons he threw at her. At the sacrifice of her own attack, she nevertheless guarded her mental state, and presented a better buffer than before.

Her stance changed and her eye contact resumed, and she countered with her own image with a strong push than before to take Connor down. It pulled him forward, and his leg subconsciously jutted out to save himself from falling, and he then halted his attack as she began hers in the split-second after. A perfectly timed distraction and then strike.

Swirling images of his allies without their Ren helmets stood around in a tropical world, being slashed and stabbed by whirlwind of blades that surrounded them. One cut took them down one at a time. Samka. Mischa. Kaalia. Ara.

Connor stood in the middle as they fell. He ignored the others, and focused on Ara – her face shocked as the blue blade skewered her body to fall backwards at his feet. The strongest survived…the weakest fell. The voice in his head blamed him for their failure.

He closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

"The weakest Ren will die and those not fit to serve with me will be crushed!”

His eyes snapped open, corrupted with power.

"The weak will die and the strong survive!”

Connor pushed back her mental assault with a wave of dark confidence and selfishness towards her vision – those who died were not worthy to stand with him in pursuit of power and leading the Ren. He took two steps forward, feeling a swirl of the Dark Side within him, and splayed his fingers forward.

The spark of Force Lightning exploded inside him, and coursed through his body to surge forward out of his palms as a conduit for the purple energy to crack towards Ara where she stood – thankfully not at a Master level of power, but one still there to hurt.

She wanted to learn about the Dark Side. She would learn the strength of the Dark Side today.

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Her assault continued as he closed his eyes and balled his fists. Pushing further into his mind, the images flashed faster and deadlier, each death become more gruesome and real to the man. His eyes snapped open, his irises lost to corruption, even as he repeated the mantra of many a darksider. Power was strength, strength was to respected and feared, and the weak would die. A simple, unbridled world view that favored survival and skill above all else.

Eyes narrowing slightly, in the back of her mind she wondered if his drive for power would jeopardize their cause.

They die because you are the weakest among the Ren, not them.

One last thought sent from the Knight to the Disciple even as he readied his own attack. Her eyes flashed in amusement mixed with determination as she implanted one final vision in his head before breaking off contact to defend.
---
The tropical environment faded to the molten terrain and heated air currents of the deathly planet of Mustafar. The sights and sounds of war waged around them, the two Ren standing back to back, sabers ignited. Both were beyond exhausted, the weight of the heat and the acrid air making each breath a struggle. Ara’s cloak was gone, armor shredded and soaked in blood from a multitude of cuts and abrasions, shards of obsidian embedded in the wounds. A split eyebrow dripped blood down the side of her face, anger setting her eyes on fire as she watched the shadowy forms surrounding the pair.

Turning to glance back at Connor, another wound revealed, a trail of burned flesh from the top of her shoulder, across her collar bone, and between her breasts. The flesh puckered and blazing red, the path of a saber she’d failed to dodge. The angry red skin made worse by the orange and red glow of lava flowing around the location of their last stand.

”Cover me.” The voice whispered through his head, all humor fled, tone grim with an undercurrent of defeat. The knight turned her attention to two of the shadows closing in, forms hazy and indistinguishable, but easily identifiable by the robes they wore and the blue and green glow of their own blades.

With an angry growl, she dashed forward two quick steps, her blade flashing faster than her feet, moving in and upward. One of the figures went down with an anguished cry, extinguished blade rolling off into a river of magma with a hiss. Spinning, her blade flashed out, curving a wide arc, only to be met head on by her other attacker. As she engaged her second target, blows exchanged in a flash of light and the hiss of blade meeting blade.

Quick footwork moved her out of range of the next blow, a powerful downward slice that would cleave the girl in two if she was caught in the crosshairs. Tripping once, the girl went down, hilt falling from her grip and skidding away. Eyes wide as she rolled to the right, further away from her fallen weapon, but also out of the range of a second blow meant to separate head from body.

Power wrapped around his limbs, the ex-Jedi instantly immobilized against a wall of force. Watching her struggle to her knees, hand outstretched to summon the blade to her hand as her opponent bore down on her. The metal hilt stayed cold and dead on the ground, a panicked expression flashing to meeting Connor’s gaze as she tore the bond between them open, desperate for any power he could feed her. Amber eyes blazed with fear for a moment as nothing answered her call, both tapped out.

Disappointment and acceptance flashed across her face a moment before her eyes widened in shock, a sapphire beam of light piercing through her abdomen. The blade disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, a trickle of blood spilling over her lip down her chin. The brunette slumped to the side, shoulder colliding hard with the ground, hand outstretched towards the man as the fire and corruption died in her eyes.

We weren’t strong enough. You weren’t strong en-

The whispered thought died out as one last breath was expelled, her broken and bruised body going still as the vision faded.

---

Once again they were back in the training room, his hands crackling with the bright violet of electricity. Throwing her arms up in front of her, the crackle of electricity slammed into and invisible wall of power, the knight wincing as it pressed against her defenses.

”You can do better than that, Connor. Show me!”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

The image raced through his mind, and she brought Mustafar to life with the sights and sounds of the lava world as he held his attack, but which was weakening with his passing moment the vision distracted him.

He saw through the vision, but he was distracted, and didn’t want to see it…but he did. Was this a premonition of what was to come? His eyes left Ara blocking his attack and he looked away as the battle in his head continued. Images of her bloodied body and the attacking faceless Jedi grew more clearer…until it all happened so quickly.

Ara died before him; the anchor to his redemption in the darkness ripped away.

It hit him, and he killed the lightning as it flowed through his palm, snuffed out with clenched fists that tingled from the mild burn. Looking across to her, Ara regained her footing and goaded him. It was true – emotion bore a weakness, and a weakness that was exploited was a fatal one. But was this a weakness, or a vision? He was confused, and angry at himself, and at her.

The girl had become stronger since their last spar, so she would go into battle stronger. It only meant that Connor had to be stronger too. So, he stood there for a second and collected his thoughts and his focus. He looked around, and closed his eyes.

"Forgive me.”

Another moment of calm; his chest rose and he rooted himself down, and slowly raised his hands, palms forward and fingers slightly curled. He didn’t stop looking at her, reading her, letting her read him and his absorbing gaze.

Then, he walked forward to her, hands still curled as he stood still only inches from her.

With his right hand, he reached out and cupped her chin gently, and leaned down. He kissed her gently. Their eyes locked, all the while as he stepped back, hand on her cheek.

"Emotion is a weakness that you can’t let be exploited.”

His left hand twisted. A fine point dug into the base of her spine. Her eyes told him so much at that point.

"The blade of that sword on the wall behind you is now pressed against your spine. You were too focused on me to take awareness of your lethal surroundings. Everywhere you can’t see can hide a weapon.”

The pressure increased.

"You must pay attention, because your emotion is a weakness other will use to distract and kill you, just as you would have done me. I am not weak. I’m sorry, Ara.”

His hand dropped, and the blade pierced her lower back.

Or rather, he told her it did. His hand on her cheek fed her the emotion of his words and the deception of the blade, which was still fixed on the wall. The elaborate movement captivated her, when all he was doing was teaching her to pay attention to the battle, not the person.

Connor looked at her for a moment, and stepped back, and as his hand left her cheek and the physical touch ended, so did the sensation she would have felt.

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

The lightning died and so did her barrier. She saw no point in expending energy unnecessarily, especially when their terms were based on exhausting their ability to manipulate the force. For a moment, they stood, both waiting for the next volley of attacks, the weight of their combined emotions hanging in the room between them.

The vision she’d crafted had been part memories, pulling from his own wounds sustained in battle, another part, fears and doubts. She expected him to push her out of his mind, to fight against the images. Instead he’d persisted in his attack and powered through the onslaught on his mind. It was impressive and a testament to his experience being far greater than hers.

A spark of envy ignited in her chest. His power would grow faster than her own, his history with the light a boon in his progression to the top. That envy and drive to be better than he was would spur her on farther than lessons or lectures ever would.

His voice broke the silence as he stalked towards her, hands outstretched, gaze locked on her own. The amber of his eyes pulled her in, once again struck by the beauty she saw in the darkness swirling in their depths. Canting her head, she watched his approach with an analyzing look, waiting for the tipping point, power curled around her.

As he stopped in front of her, her mind raced with possibilities, wondering why he’d risked getting so close and why she’d let him. The pull on her mind kept her attention locked on the man, despite her efforts to focus on another vein of attack. His hand on her chin burned, the power between them completing a circuit and feeding back and forth. The disciple was doing something, distracting her. Her thoughts and reactions betrayed him, she was never one to be enraptured by a man, by physical contact, by the feeling of hips lips on hers.

And yet she was. His lips brushed hers, so light she almost imagined it, but the sensation there regardless. The warmth and pressure of his hand settled on her cheek as he stepped back, their gazes still locked.

The words and a sharp prick of metal against her spine broke through her hazy thoughts, breath rushing into her lungs in a sharp intake of air. He spoke of focus and the presence of a weapon in the unseen, the ice-cold pain of the blade increased, shards of lightning spreading from the point of entry.

His final argument rung in her head as he stepped back, the tearing pain of a blade slicing through skin, bone, and muscles, coloring her vision red. Her pulse pounded in her ears, the sharp tang of blood filling her mouth from the shredded skin of a lip split by a self-inflicted bite. The apology rung hollow in her ears as she kept eyes locked on his, refusing to look away even with the sword he’d run her through with.

”Your words betray you, as does your Jedi past.”

Coughing once as lungs labored to breathe around the imaginary fire spread through her gut from a non-existent wound. No, he wasn’t weak, and neither was she. Her eyes blazed crimson, pain and anger masking an underlying pride.

”Only some emotions are weakness, others become strength. Pain, for example.”

As his hand left her cheek, she reached up and held it there, assuming the physical contact was a key part of whatever trick he was playing on her mind and body. Stepping into his physical proximity she lifted herself up on her toes, returning the kiss he’d given a few moments before with her own. A wicked smile curved the corners up even as breathing became a secondary thought to the struggle of staying upright as muscles screamed in agony from the imaginary wound.

A simple thought replicated the sensation, this time exacerbating her own pain as the spectral sword was pushed further into her abdomen, the point breaking through and impaling into Connor. The tearing pain momentarily blinded her as white filled her vision, her knees threatening to buckle even as she knew it was all a mind trick. A mix of deception and illusion, none-the-less, her body reacted as if it were real, and now she fed that same sensation into him.

With one more moment of eye contact, she released his hand, the pain and pressure vanishing in an instant. Falling to her knees, she coughed and hacked as lungs burned from the influx of air and the immediate relief.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor nodded at her, showing he understood and let her show the pain, confusion and anger she felt. He wasn’t cold – he was helping her. This was a lesson to be learnt. The mention of his past stoked a fire inside him, but he let her have it.

As she came close, his hands were out by his sides, and he didn’t fight her when the light kiss came; a kiss as if it were a final touch before death. His mouth tried to smile gingerly, but he refrained.

Ara gripped him and pulled into him more, and Connor knew he had been the subject of a mental distraction. In the moments that followed, bar the pain and the panic, there would be pride somewhere for the evident understanding and use of a Force vision from the Knight.

The sensation of being stabbed that he dropped had been picked up by Ara’s touch, and the burning pain shot right through his abdomen, making him fall forward slightly on her and gasp out loud, a gasp of surprise and suffering.

His arms shot up and pushed her back hard, hands falling to his gut to see what she had done – but there was nothing. No blood, no blade. Just his vest and trembling hands, all in a healthy condition. Beads of cold sweat formed on his brow as he looked down at Ara, now recovering from a strong expulsion of energy.

Blowing out a breath, feeling his legs shaking, Connor tilted back and closed his eyes. For a moment, he thought she had actually brought a hidden blade to the session just to prove a point of minding your surroundings. And she had succeeded in the fact Connor has under-estimated her.

"Well,” he said, quietly, "I think I win again.”

He walked forward and held out his hand for her to take.

"But you excelled in what your expectations where. Even excelled mine. So for that, you are a clear winner too.”

Their Force power shared was something to be explored more, because it was a frightening sensation and one that could easily turn the tide in battle.

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

His gasp of pain brought her eyes up to look at him from her spot on the ground, breaths coming a little easier as the fire died. Hands grasped at his gut, shock present on his face as he searched for the cause of his agony. Meeting her gaze with his own, she couldn’t help the swell of pride and narrowing of eyelids as sweat broke out and he looked away first.

She’d managed to surprise him, not just with the ability she used, but with her ruthlessness. Once, she had told him that if he got in her way, she’d take him down. This was another shining example of her drive and determination. If anyone tried to take her down, she’d drag them into the cold embrace of death with her.

His hand appeared in front of her face, his words declaring himself the winner of their spar. Tilting her head, a grim smile appeared. Taking his palm in hers, she allowed him to pull her off of her knees, muscles shaking in memory of pain and stress, but miraculously in one piece.

”How pleasant to hear you underestimated me, Connor.”

Her eyes flashed to his, a bit of anger hiding under the calculating look she passed over him. Having failed to release his hand, she ran her free hand across one shoulder, grin turning predatory.

”What were the requirements of winning? Taped out or loss of control?”

A raised eyebrow accompanied the question, the Knight finally releasing his hand as she walked past him. Watching from her peripheral vision, she kept her left hand on his shoulder as she moved behind the man, body language imitating that of someone who was finished with the fight.

”I have done neither.”

Her hand left his shoulder, flashing out to slam into the small of his back, a push of power accompanying the move.

”The fight continues. Neither one of us has won….yet.”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

From her first words which signalled she was far from spent, Connor prepared himself. He let her snake around him, a teasing word, a light touch, and a call for the spar to continue. When she walked behind him, he readied his mind and when she pushed out into his back, he used it to simply move forward quicker to the wall with the weapons.

He turned

"Let’s continue then.”

With a burst of speed, he strafed left.

"Take stock of your surroundings.”

Then, he strafed right.

"Focus.”

Stopping on the other side to her, he held his palm out and pulled sparks from the air to form a flame in his hand. The acceleration of the elements around him caused the fire that was to be used against Ara.

He span around to his left and darted back to the right, a disorientating movement with the fire tailing.

With his left hand, he accentuated the flame across both palms and pushed outwards towards her; a jet of peach-coloured flame spitting across to where she stood. Yes, it would burn her, but if she couldn’t avoid it our counter it then she deserved the pain.

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Watching him with cool precision, she ignored his goading, eyes staying trained on her opponent. Now was her time to rest and allow the man to wear himself out. His bust of speed caused one corner of her mouth to quirk up in a smirk, one more expenditure of energy she didn’t feel was necessary.

”Perhaps you should focus instead of talk, stop wasting precious air.”

The chuckled admonishment was paired with a slow turn, keeping him from getting behind her. The tug of power as he summoned flame drew her in, her eyes bleeding with amber. He moved, a spin trailing orange and red flame, his form glowing in the light cast by the river of fire floating in his wake.

His hands shot out in front, flames spreading from one palm to the other, the fluid movement of the spin ending with the tongues of flame aiming straight for the Knight.

Her instinct to pull the Force and protect herself was tempered by the knowledge that she was dangerously close to the edge of exhaustion and he was not. It was time to put her training as a Ren aside and let the street-rat shine through.

Staying still, hands thrown up in front of her as if to create another barrier, she waited until the heat of the attack licked at her skin and blew past her face. A quick push off the ground, she flipped, pulling the tiniest bit of power to aid her in height and distance. Landing solidly on the other side of the flame, she moved like a blur as soon as her toes met stone again, her path parallel to the fire he aimed at her.

Eyes narrowed, she made straight for the disciple, swerving at the last second in a blur of motion. She needed to disorient him, keep him attacking without landing anything. The more power he used, the closer to winning she’d be.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor smirked and nodded. She was fast indeed. Flame shot forward and scorched the air, sizzling past her to burn the wall and floor before vanishing into black smoke.

She absorbed the flame. She was learning. As she deftly moved away with the dexterity of a gymnast, Connor parted his palms and let go of the fire, letting it fade into the air with a gentle hiss. He watched her move quickly, and she was soon on him again.

So now she was using another power, and using it more than others. From mentalism, to speed, her thought and effort moved from one to the next. Connor set his legs apart for a stronger standing, and looked down.

Focus.

She was disorientating him now. Copying his attack. And talking was her big weakness.

Connor reached out to feel her aura, full of energy and darkness and predictability. He let his body relax and felt out for the pattern of her movement. From one side, she moved around to the other. It was then he moved quickly and with power.

One sharp, shock attack.

He stepped forward and jutted out his arm in a rigid stance which was precognition – if he had her, she would move right into it as if running into a tree trunk. Little expenditure; focused mind.

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Her movements were spurred by natural ability more than any power pulled from the force. Letting the thread of energy die as the fire he’d summoned did, she moved with precision, intent on forcing his hand.

He moved, stepping forward into her path, one arm flashing out to block her. Seeing and anticipating it, she darted to the side, spinning. She was moving far too fast to avoid the limb, but she could minimize the impact.

Taking the brunt of the crash on her upper arm and side, she dropped to the ground, rolling to keep from being trapped and scrabbling to her feet a short distance away from the man. Her lungs burned, sweat forming a light layer between skin and fabric, a few drops threatening to drip into eyes. Spinning quickly, she turned to face him, waiting for the next attack.

Red and yellow eyes met his, one eyebrow raised in a silent taunt.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Ara connected, but worked with his arm to spin around it with minimal effort. He changed stance and turned to meet her face to face.

Burning eyes glared at each other, the tiniest droplets of sweat kissed their foreheads, their hair starting to matt with moisture. He inclined his head slightly at his partner in this dangerous dance.

He looked at her.

How long would it before she broke his heart?

How long before she saw a side to him she could no longer tolerate?

How long would it be before he fell in love with her?

Shaking the throught, his brow creased at the glimmer of light in a world full of darkness. His hand shot forward, eyes not leaving her, and placed it on her chest and pulled at her heart.

Heartbreak was such a painful thing…experiencing it only made you stronger.

Using the Force to accelerate her heart and the blood itself, he drew strength from her and aimed at making her pass out in a direct attack to the body.

[member="Ara Ren"]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Another stalemate, neither willing to give even the slightest to their opponent. Thoughts burned behind his glare, fleeting thoughts too quick for her to interpret through their bond. Her eyebrows knitted together in a small show of frustration. He was difficult to read at times, infuriating her

Both were dangerously close to the breaking point, either one about to flame out in spectacular fashion.

As she watched, his hand rested on her chest, her blood speeding up until the heat of the fire could hardly compared to the fire burning through her veins.

The brilliant staccato of a heart beating far too fast for the organ to sustain roared in her ears. Her hand flashed up, her fingers encircling his wrist and crushing, aided by the force as well as her own physical strength. The knight had to stop his attack before her lungs and heart gave out from stress.

Bones crunched under her grip, sweat breaking out on her forehead, breathes coming in shallow gasps as her heart beat faster and blood pulsed through her body. Her vision flashed red before going black.

One last surge of force preceded her eyes rolling up into her head, body collapsing as she lost consciousness.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor held his hand tight on her chest as she gripped him, and the shooting pain soared up his arm, but he focused on knocking Ara down.

Her body started to shake, her face a wonderful mix of fear and anxiety, but as he grip grew, Connor yelped in pain as his hand buckled and his wrist near collapsed as the bone broke. Snatching it back, he was just in time to see Ara fall back to the ground unconscious.

Stepping away, holding his wrist, Connor sucked in air and held it tight, calming the pain as best he could and drawing what he could to heal the bone internally by his own doing. It hurt more, and it proved his Force energy had been spent reducing Ara to a quivering wreck on the ground.

Connor’s dark eyes looked down at the Knight, breathing hard and chest rising as her body calmed naturally. Wincing, he turned away and leant against the back wall holding his wrist, and waited for her to come to. He wasn’t going to leave her.

The bone felt like grit under his skin.

He cursed silently.

[member="Ara Ren"]