Clashing Sabers and Crackpot Masters

[MoreThanSane]

Saber.

Blade, sword, weapon.

Death.

Weapons equal death. Death was bad. Death was corrupting. Death was something he'd tried so desperately to run from, to ignore and to forget. He'd seen too much death. Family, friends, clients. And he'd killed so many. A lawyer, a defense attorney, and yet he'd killed so many. Dozens and dozens.

But now it was back. Death was back, and killing was back. Crinlin Syphex had killed and killed and almost died. It had taken several weeks, but he'd finally come to terms with the fact that he could avoid death no longer. He would have to take lives to be a Jedi, just as he had on Coruscant and countless other worlds. Except this time it was different. This time he wasn't just killing based upon who he thought it was right to kill, but upon who truly needed to die for the good of others.

Crinlin shuddered slightly as he thought of his most recent mission. It had been so easy to slip back into that frame of mind, knowing deep down who he was required to eliminate. But it wasn't like the old times. He didn't feel that pressing guilt as he had then. Some men needed to die, and it had to be a Jedi's duty to kill them.

Since arriving on Tython Crinlin had neglected that duty. He'd buried himself in learning, but trained primarily with his mind, keeping separate from violence wherever and whenever he could. That idiocy had almost cost him, another Padawan, and a Togrutan woman their lives. That was unacceptable.

So the fiery-haired Jedi walked down the Temple corridors, clothed in a fine business suit with his training lightsaber clipped to his jacket's inside pocket. Death was part of life, he knew, and at times he would have to deal out that death. Crinlin was determined that, when those times came, he would do so with precision and speed.

He stopped at a metal door and wrapped thrice before sticking his hands in his pockets and glancing at his feet.

 

[Cassanova]

The door slid open, without a word from its occupant. The room, entirely unfurnished, was bland, boring. It's only discernible features were a sliding window that was ajar, and two other doors. In it's centre, sitting cross-legged was a man in robes that seemed in disrepair, or heavily worn. They told a lot about the man wearing them. They told tales of years of tough life, living on the ragged edge. Usually a man would get new robes after such a life. The inaction to do so spoke even more of the man.

Such a man was Jedi Knight Jay Cameron, who had only within the past two or three months finally returned to the Jedi Order from ten years in aggressive exile, deep behind enemy lines. In such a time, Jay had all but forgotten who he was. Forgotten his purpose. Forgotten how to be a Jedi. Such things were coming back to him slowly. Too slowly for his progress to be deemed acceptable. He was asked to make himself available as a 'tutor' to the Initiates, Padawans and Knights of the order who required a more... old fashioned approach.

In his raspy, deep tones, he spoke softly - his voice abrasively snapping at Crinlin, "Who are you and what do you want?"

 

[MoreThanSane]

Crinlin let his mouth twist into a half-smile as he entered the room. He searched it with his eyes as well as his mind, noting the exits as well as the lack of furnishings. The man himself, Jay Cameron, sat on the floor, robes in such horrid disrepair as to make any self-respecting person gasp. Crinlin, however, simply accepted the apparel and made certain to note the implications.

"If you don't know that already," Crinlin said, letting his eyes drift, "then the stories must be false." He pushed out with the Force in an attempt to get a feel for the man's mental state, but found only a durasteel wall. Crinlin's voice was calm, bored. "No, I think you know just fine who I am, and what I want." He finally met Cameron's eyes. "And I think you're just being an impolite Dug-of-a-man to sate some odd sort of perverted social need."

 

[Cassanova]

"What are stories, Mister Syphex, if not the ramblings of old men and young girls? Is there any merit in them? Any purpose to their existence?" he turned his head, but did not get up. "Mister Syphex, what purpose is a story about me? If not to fill the minds of young idiots with false truths or honest fallacies?"

Jay turned his head back to the wall, and closed his eyes, "And if anyone is being a dug-of-a-man, Syphex. It is you," he snapped, his low raspy voice carrying weight beyond what they should. Clearly echoing through the force, "I asked you a simple question. You did not answer."

Truthfully, behind the wall that Jay had constructed around his thoughts, his power, and his purpose, he was downright testing Crinlin. Jay was, by no means, an easy man to get along with. He required evidence of worth, whether it be simply the courage to defy the abrasive nature of his words, or the persistence to learn. Jay did not waste time on people who sat idly by and watched the war rage.

"Who are you and what do you want?"

 

[MoreThanSane]

Crinlin's grey eyes flashed. "As a former lawyer, sir, I hold a deep respect for the efficient management of information. You already have the information you're requesting, evidenced by your addressing me by name, and present is neither judge nor jury, therefore your line of questioning is both inefficient as well as genuinely idiotic."

He ran a hand through his hair, but kept his face and his presence as hard as vacuum. If Cameron wanted to play games, then for the time being they would play games. He could do that; he was good at that. But soon they would get to training, or Crinlin decided that he would begin to develop a very intense dislike for the man. Perhaps so much so that he would actually do something about it.

"With that in mind," he added, "I suggest we move on."

 

[Cassanova]

"I may possess your name, Padawan Syphex," it was clear the emphasis was not out of politeness, "But I do not know why you are here. I have theories, assumptions. These things are useless to me."

He stood and walked towards the younger, yet notably taller man. "What i've been told and what you believe you know are two very different things, Syphex. I do not appreciate your witty games, or any of your business about being a lawyer, because quite frankly - you're a goddamned Jedi now. You were a lawyer? Fantastic. I don't care if you were a goddamn transvestite stripper!"

"Now," his voice lowered. As his voice rasped the next line, the dark, cold, reverberations could be felt through the force. "Tell me why you're here."

 

[MoreThanSane]

"I don't quite care what you appreciate," said Crinlin, temporarily ignoring the other's order. The Jedi's voice was powerful, each word resounding louder in the Force than in the air. To Crinlin this meant nothing. He had little skill in the more direct applications of the Force on his surroundings, but his abilities in the realm of the mind were becoming better and better tuned every day. He simply wasn't intimidated.

Crinlin opened his jacket, making visible his saber, and pulled it out with his right hand. "Even I can sense a lightsaber dozens of meters away, and if you truly are the great Jay Cameron you should be capable of much, much more than that. Has your mind become so frazzled that you're unable to piece together my reason as to being here? Perhaps the Council was mistaken in allowing you to assume any responsibility whatsoever."

Crinlin realized he was just being stubborn now, but couldn't help it. There was principal at stake. "I've no qualms with you yourself, Knight Cameron, but I prefer that those in positions of authority--especially when that authority involves the training of Jedi students--tend to their duties with logic and efficiency. Nevertheless," he added, "because you hold that authority I will answer your question. I'm here for lightsaber instruction."

 

[Cassanova]

Cameron nodded, "I'm going to assume a man with wits as sharp as yours has the intelligence to come to me with a lightsaber to train with, or must we exchange pointless banter again?"

Upon confirmation, Jay nodded and moved to the other end of the room, slowly removing his own lightsaber from deep within the folds of his robes. A minor alteration to the settings (making it safe for training) followed by it's ignition, Jay then attacked towards Crinlin without any warning. Using his left hand as a dominant guide for the saber struck wide and low to Crinlin's right foot drawing up to his left shoulder. Regardless of what actions Crinlin took, Jay released a huge burst of energy, using his right hand as a focal emitter point.

 

[MoreThanSane]

Startled, Crinlin hopped back and away from the other's saber strike, his own blade barely igniting before he was hurled into the far wall. His head cracked against the durasteel and he fell to his knees, stunned. The Padawan shook his head and stood. He would have preferred to remove his jacket before proceeding, but sensed that Cameron wouldn't be willing to lend him the time.

So Crinlin pushed himself into the Force, walking over and stopping just under two meters from Cameron. He dropped into a loose defensive posture and stared blankly at the other. He may have had little experience with a blade, but he was no stranger to combat and the Force.

Crinlin waited.

 

[Cassanova]

"Holding back, Syphex? How quaint. You may have carried a blaster, and carry the horrors of killing men before, but you cannot afford to be indecisive in combat," he shook his head, "Least of all with a lightsaber."

He swung his saber dismissively in a flourish as he began to circle around Crinlin. "Your duty as a Jedi is to end a fight swiftly, decisively. To prolong the fight is to enjoy the fight. This is not the Jedi way." In a flurry, Jay rocketed forward on his heel, ducking low and jammed his saber upwards to the lower part of Crinlin's ribcage while releasing another burst of the Force - however this time, from Jay's low position it would have sent Crinlin directly into the ceiling.

 

[MoreThanSane]

Crinlin flicked his silver-white blade diagonally down and batted Cameron's attack wide, but the other shoved him again with the Force. Crinlin threw his weight forward as he was hurled upward, allowing him to smack into the ceiling with his entire back as opposed to his head. The impact hurt, but not as much as his subsequent landing on the floor.

This time, however, he was immersed in the Force. Crinlin didn't allow the pain to break his concentration and lashed out with a foot toward Cameron, who was still recovering his balance from the low lunge. At the same time he opened himself more fully to the Force, allowing it to flow into him and guide his actions.

 

[Cassanova]

Cameron admittedly allowed a foot to be caught by Crinlin's sweeping attack. While it connected, it didn't take him off his feet, as much as turn him side-on. Quickly alternating his saber to his right hand taking a step away from Crinlin.

A smile emerged on his face, "Syphex, are you planning to engage me in lightsaber combat? Or are you here to dig deep into the force? If you wanted training on how to use the force in combat, tell me that. Don't you dare lie to me."

Two lightning fast, force-assisted steps had Cameron at Crinlin's feet, toe-tips touching his. His right hand held his own saber, but his left hand, however, with the aide of the force, clasped over Crinlin's hand, holding the silver-white blade still. Cameron moved his thumb around, disengaging Crinlin's training blade. He dismissively threw Crinlin's hand away, and turned moving back to the other side of the room.

"Why are you here, Jedi Padawan Syphex?" he turned and pointed an accusing finger to Crinlin, "Do not piss in my ear and call it rain, or so help me, this training session will be over."

 

[MoreThanSane]

"I told you," Crinlin grunted angrily, rubbing his sore back with a hand, "I'm here for lightsaber instruction. Not to be blown around with the Force like a bloody ragdoll." He let his connection with the Force thin as he analyzed the short duel. He'd tried to fight the man, but had no defense against his frequent, unmitigated use of telekinesis.

He clenched his teeth and breathed deep, calming himself. "If you would teach me as opposed to trying to splatter me across your wall, then perhaps this would be a tad more pleasant." He took the opportunity to remove his jacket, depositing it near a wall.

 

[Cassanova]

"Pleasant? If you want pleasant you can go and join the class with the ten year olds!" he pointed an accusing finger to Crinlin, "You're here because you fail to react appropriately. You say you're here to learn the art of lightsaber combat, yet you couple your words with the Force!"

If you didn't know Jay, you would think he was actually angry, or upset by Crinlin's performance. Truthfully, Jay was simply trying to break down the insecurity that Crinlin clearly had build up within him. Unfortunately, to discover this insecurity... Jay would first have to destroy the walls that Crinlin's mind had constructed to protect itself. It would be a messy process.

"Again!" Jay stared at Crinlin with demanding eyes, "Do not use the Force. You are here to learn about lightsaber combat. You obey this rule, and I will follow it also."

Snap-hiss!

Jay's blade ignited, and he adopted a defensive posture. The old man's tanned and leathery skin seemed to show age beyond its years under the glow of his cyan blade. It was clear that the bags under his eyes were not those of sleep deprivation, but of stress. The robes, not only tattered but still clean. Everything about Jay Cameron told two stories of who he was. Was he a washout or master of disguise? Was he stressed, or experienced? Was he homeless? Such things not only were intentional, but also provided him with the seconds he needed in combat. Against an inexperienced duelist such as Crinlin, he wouldn't have much trouble, certainly not.

"When you're ready."

 

[MoreThanSane]

Crinlin shook his head in bewilderment. How could a Jedi be expected to properly wield a lightsaber without drawing upon the Force? There was a reason common beings didn't use the things, after all. But Crinlin said nothing. He rolled his sleeves up slowly, then ignited his saber.

"Very well," he nodded, and ignored all he knew about lightsaber forms, instead taking up a standard Coruscanti fencing stance, saber held in one hand and pointed toward Cameron at a slight upward angle. Crinlin had little experience fencing, either, but he'd engaged in the activity once or twice. He had plenty of experience swinging other blunt objects, but decided to try for finesse. At least at first.

The Padawan kept himself as separate from the Force as he could, hop-skipping forward and driving at Cameron with a quick downward swipe at his left shoulder while preparing his mind and muscles for the inevitable parry and counter-strike.

 

[Cassanova]

A mocking gesture came across Cameron's face as Crinlin launched into attack. A heavy, sweeping blow to the side dismissively tossed Crinlin's saber aside. "I believe there is a Jedi Knight in this Order who specialises in dancing, Padawan Syphex. Perhaps she would be better suited to your childish notions of lightsaber combat."

"True combat is not about scoring points, nor about gauging your opponent," he shook his finger, "Combat is a Jedi's last resort. Should you be brought down to this level, it is your responsibility to waste no time. Disable your opponent, or, if the opportunity doesn't present itself, end him. Dancing with me, is not advisable!"

He scooted forward in two wide steps, sweeping his saber from Crinlin's left boot upwards to his right shoulder, and then just as quickly brought it down hard, aiming for a deep, heavy slash which would have connected with Crinlin's chest.

 

[MoreThanSane]

Crinlin dodged the first sweep, the rapid tap of boot-heels echoing across the chamber. As Cameron's blade drove down at his chest, the red-haired man heaved his own saber upward with all his strength. They crashed together with a sizzle and a pop. Cameron's lightsaber was knocked upward and Crinlin seized the initiative, propelling himself forward and smashing his shoulder into the other's chest.

The two men parted, and Crinlin recovered his balance. "Perhaps you should dance with her, Knight Cameron," he said, familiar with the mentioned Jedi. "I've this rather odd feeling you'd get your backside thrashed quite thoroughly."

He sprang forward again, striking this time in an upward arc toward Cameron's thigh. The blow was again swift as opposed to powerful, and Crinlin devoted little weight to the attack in order to be prepared for whatever counter the man managed.

 

[Cassanova]

Cameron smiled as he lowered his saber to block and hold Crinlin's saber in place, "You're assuming she hasn't already?" With a grunt, he forced Crinlin's saber away, allowing him to correct his stance. "You're also forgetting that they sent you to me because you fighting her would be an embarrassment. No one enjoys getting beaten by Knight Armstrong."

Forcing his saber along the line of his arm, he swung the blade over his head and around in a manoeuvre to attack at Crinlins' neck, then quickly drew his saber close to his chest and slashed out at Crinlin's midriff.

 

[MoreThanSane]

Crinlin blocked the overhead strike, arms shaking with the impact. He barely managed to pull his arms down to his chest in time block Cameron's second attack. The blades clashed. His muscles were warmed now, body becoming more coordinated with each passing moment. Crinlin Syphex had never been known for flexibility or acrobatics, but he knew how to fight.

And fight he did.

The redhead shoved Cameron's lightsaber to the side. He skipped inward on his heels, trying to get inside the Knight's guard. He held his saber two-handed and swung hard from the hip, cutting through the air toward Cameron's side, just below the ribcage.

 

[Cassanova]

Cameron turned aside, putting his back to Crinlin's blade. His far hand that held his saber, twisted behind his back, and dismissively blocked the blow. Cameron yawned, as he pushed backwards, then in a flurry, swapped hands on his blade, flourishing into a two handed attack upon Crinlin's wrist which held the saber.

Upon it's completion, Cameron stepped back. Somehow, his already sour face contorted even further into a frown, "Are you here to learn? Dance? Get angry, perhaps? You tell me, Padawan Syphex."

Two more steps, widely placed, well on either side of Crinlin were the lead up to a two handed jab near Crinlin's right collarbone. Expecting a parry, Cameron prepared to force the blades up and over Crinlin to his left side, where he would quickly begin an assault of left-right-left flurries battling down Crinlin's notably weak defence.