Forging of a Warrior

[Brand]

Judicar reeled back from the assault, cold fury welling up inside himself at the man's lack of effort at warding off his attacks. Judicar's breath came in a slightly harried fashion, the early signs of fatigue gripping his soul. For the first time the fear of defeat seeped into his soul, and he remembered the words earlier of the mysterious man who now tested him.

Fear was his advantage, and if he could keep his emotions in check to fuel his fight he could possibly at least hold his own. "My biggest enemy is my own self," he thought, the fact proven over his past years. The Dark side coursed through his arms, blotting out the pain and cold that the pouring rain brought out. The red heat of the Dark side overcame his own mortal senses, and he swept forward, a new game plan in sight when-

The man was gone. Judicar swiped his lightsaber in with a powerful thrust, but the man disapeared. He escaped into the night, it seemed, vanishing in but an instant. Rage surged through Judicar, only fueling his relentless desire to prove himself. The boy cast out with his formidable Force sense, searching in vain. He spun, searching with his eyes for any glimmer of the man he could find, but the man was totally concealed to him. Judicar sighed, his frustration boiling over, but took back control. He would let the man make his own move, and keep his own senses perked and ready. A slight repieve was welcome, and Judicar felt he could (hopefully) be quick enough to ward off an attack from the seemingly invisible man.

 

[Ols]

Nescius did not simply wait in the shadow, he would be too easy to find otherwise. He kept moving, not in a regular fashion, nor too quickly. He was wary that in the heavy rain a very keen eye might just pick out a Nescius-sized area that rain spattered around, rather than through. But that would take a very keen eye indeed.

The moment he had vanished into the darkness, he had flicked his lightsaber off, the effort of masking that as well not worth the fact he could simply flick it on as he attacked if he needed to.

Moving quickly as the next assault of the boy petered out hen he realised his target was no longer there, He came up behind him, dropped his guise and punched him in the back, hard again, with his right hand, holding his lightsaber hilt. He flicked his lightsaber on ready for the next attack, if Judicar had the mettle to muster one.

 

[Brand]

Judicar felt pain erupt from his back, followed quickly by the ignition and hum of a lightsaber springing to life. Pain and anger mixed in his mind, and he struggled to stand. Judicar turned to face the man, his lightsaber hanging at his side.

"I cannot best you, my lord, but I will never willingly drop my blade."

He extended his palm, channeling the Force he had been gathering inside himself during the sentence. He released a simple but powerful Force Push, but instead of aiming directly for the man's center mass he directed the blow towards his feet, in an attempt to a least throw him off balance or provide Judicar with an opening. Judicar watched the man intently, his eyes buring with a raw hate, and stood ready to pounce.

 

[Ols]

"I have not asked you to best me," Nescius replied swiftly, seeing the palm come up. He made no effort to absorb the blow, but simply relaxed his body and hopped backwards. The blast hit when he was still in midair, but hit his legs rather than him full frontally. That was clever. He flicked his blade off almost absent mindedly as, rather than gracefully riding the blast back and landing, he was thrown out of balance and landed crouched, not altogether clumsily but not where he was expecting to. He smiled, more to himself than to Judicar.

"I simply wanted you to make a case for your survival," he said, standing back up, "which you have begun impressively. Desist your attack and kneel."

 

[Brand]

Judicar let out a slight sigh of relief, but kept himself on a wary guard. None the less, he hoped that a reprieve would be granted. He felt the small warmth of success and pride fill his heart, strengthening him and beating back the chill of the pouring rain. Judicar bowed his head and dropped to one knee, deactivating his lightsaber and returning it to his belt. On the cold and desolate balcony, overlooking a barren plain, Judicar knelt before this powerful master of the Force.

"I am willing to surrender to the Dark side, my lord."

 

[Ols]

"Surrender nothing," Nescius replied with a wry smile, motioning for Judicar to stand and face him, "embrace the dark side. You are its master; always that way around. The second it masters you, you become its drone, and thus, useless and worthless, at least as far as I am concerned."

Drones and grunts had their place, the pawns led the attack, and they were necessary, just as kings and queens, yet Nescius was no pawn, and he would be damned if any apprentice of his would be likewise. If he needed a pawn he would enter the temple and find some scrap of meat, an acolyte or crusader with no real worth, and send them to their fate, expendable and replaceable.

Quite oddly, clipping his lightsaber to his belt and sitting on the ground, cross-legged, as if he were not soaked through, as if the stone floor were not wet, and as if rain did not batter them both from the sky. He motioned for Judicar to do the same.

"Now we have introduced ourselves, you will tell me why you left the Jedi, and you will explain the name you have selected for yourself, Erak," he phrased it deliberately as no question, but a command.

 

[Brand]

Judicar followed the man, grateful for a chance to sit, even in the midst of the raging storm. He drowned out the noise, the distraction, and listened for the man's words.

"Now we have introduced ourselves, you will tell me why you left the Jedi, and you will explain the name you have selected for yourself, Erak," the man said, his voice resonating powerfully with Judicar. He had a profound way of speaking.

"I was a member of the Order from my infancy; I was apprenticed to a Rodian Jedi Knight, a masterful swordsman who took me under my wing. I became attached to him, cared for him; I would've taken a bullet for him. We undertook numerous missions; I'm not unfamiliar to death, but with the so called 'just' causes of the Order in mind. It was routine when we traveled to Kiffar to put down a political uprising, but we were surrounded by extremists from one of the sides, and I was ordered to flee. I almost refused, but my master always seemed invincible to me. I fled as far as I could, but I turned and watched him be cut down."

"That was when I snapped, letting the Force rush into me. I slaughtered every one of the men under Kiffar's hot sun, mercilessly destroying them. None escaped alive, and I enjoyed it. The power I had at my fingertips was more than I ever had felt in the Order, and I was not about to return, not with my master taken from me. I knew that I wouldn't be accepted back, and my stomach was sickened over their teachings. I pulled myself up by the bootstraps and escaped, although I probably should've died from all of the kriffing blood I lost."

He absently touched one of the scars that adorned his youthful face as he finished retelling the story. "I stole a shuttle and after I landed a few worlds away I got picked up by the Bogan recruiter."

Judicar paused. "I didn't, and still don't, want anything to do with my past life. I am a changed man, and I feel that justice must be doled out around the galaxy. I will be the judge of my own destiny from now on, through my ability within the Force. Revenge is the goal of my efforts, and I will take my hate of the Jedi Order and forge it into a weapon. I am Judicar."

 

[Ols]

Nescius listened to Erak's story without interruption, letting each sentence wash over him, committing as much as he could to memory. He finished, explaining his apparent motives and goals thus far.

"So," Nescius replied after a moment's silence between them, but for the heavy rain, "it seems we have much work to do."

He paused a second. There were a few things he was first to explain to the younger man and he mulled over which of them he should mention first. Since they had just duelled themselves, his comment on swordplay seemed most appropriate.

"If your skills are the product of this rodian Jedi's instruction, masterful is not the word I would use. 'Predictable and rigid, albeit with finesse and accuracy,' is a much more appropriate description. And that is something you shall have to attend to. Your adherence to Ataru, or any one of the forms for that matter, is down to you. But your unwavering committal to it's core moves is something I would advise against, they look impressive when they work against an idiot with a pistol or a security guard with a stun baton, but against anybody who knows what they're doing, you're dead meat."

"Ataru is an interesting form, and when practised appropriately and skillfully it can be fantastically deadly. Your speed was not bad, but you need to be faster. Every strike needs to come without pause, or else your enemy will be able to counter too easily. You need to bury them under a barrage so they make a mistake in their defense and let you through. As if to counteract the patient defense of the third form, both Ataru and even Djem So have an element of the same principles about them, but in attack, rather than defense. Granted one operates more through speed, the other through strength, but it is still about using those to drive your opponent into a mistake, to make them leave a hole which you can exploit."

"You also could do with being more flexible, rather than using the standard Ataru assaults, use a wider variety of feints and slashes. Given, your swipes are the bread and buttter of this form, but not every opponent will be easy to overcome with them. As much as your Ataru is good, you can always maximise your chances by borrowing a Makashi feint or a Shien strike. I'm not saying become a lightsaber instructor and master all seven forms by the way, just be aware that when what your doing does not grant you the results you require, there are ways to help yourself."

Taking a pause after his critique of Judicar's lightsaber skills he thought about the other point he wanted to mention.

"As for the Jedi, you say they do not know you have abandoned your teachings for the Bogan and you desire to enact your vengeance upon them? We shall have to end your hunt for revenge one way or another, you will need to let go of it, as much as hatred can drive you, it can also control you. Don't become it's slave."

 

[Brand]

Judicar nodded, taking in the criticism. He always appreciated any advice to his form, especially from one who appeared to be fairly experienced. "I understand. I believe that making use of my height and strength could work to my advantage, especially in more powerful blows."

Judicar listened as he spoke of his connection to the Jedi. "Yes, I know. Hatred is a tool, a pawn in the game, and I must always remain in command of my emotions. My biggest enemy in combat and going about life is usually my own self."

 

[Ols]

"Hatred...revenge...stereotypes of the dark side," Nescius continued, "these are not what will grant you success. They may lead to your consumption by the dark side and through you they may cause chaos, disaster and death. But they will force your hand, cause your will to be bent and skewed to other ends."

"You need to be above revenge. You need to be able to look your foe in the eye and watch them walk out of your grasp without batting an eyelid. You need to be able to know when the time is right to strike your opponent down, and when a killing stroke will end up costing more than you bargained for. Some may argue that a Phyrric victory is a victory nonetheless. I would advise you to approach the 'v' word with caution."

The rain had begun to ease off. It would probably stop soon. But the night was yet young, there were many hours before dawn. Nescius stood up and walked slowly to the edge of the tower top.

"Let us see what the Jedi teach their students," he said with a slight smirk, leaning forwards, "keep up."

He leaned so far forwards that it seemed he fell right off the edge of the tower. Flipping over so he was once more the right way up as he plummeted the considerable height, using the lightest of touches upon the wall to push himself outwards to avoid the rooftop of the main body of the castle. He landed catlike, softly, with the aid of the force, on the wet muddy ground. He did not even look up to see if Judicar was following him, but ran. He began with a burst of speed from the force to ensure a large headstart, before settling to a speed he could manage without the aid of the force.

 

[Brand]

Judicar drank in the man's wisdom with hunger, satisfied with the words and trusting them to a degree. These men were Dark Jedi, decievers by trade, but he had a feeling of confidence to the man's honesty.

"Let us see what the Jedi teach their students," the man said with a slight smirk, leaning forwards, "keep up."

A broad grin spread over Judicar's face as the man leapt off the balcony. Judicar rose, any sense of relaxation or tiredness melting away instantly. He took off of the bridge at a running start, bracing his body with the Force and throwing a strong protective shield around his legs. He landed with a quiet thud, watching as the man took off into the thick wilderness. Judicar took off after him, pumping his legs quickly after his makeshift master. Judicar opened himself up to the Force, feeling his surroundings and relying on the Force to keep his steps sure and swift.

The trees and foilage that surrounded the men became a blur as they raced through the night. Judicar came close to slipping on a wet leaf that came under his leather boots, but recovered, only to see the man gain further ahead of him. Judicar's mind raced as he pelted through the undergrowth, processing different scenarios of how he could catch the man. The figurative lightbulb of a possible helpful situation gripped him, and he continued the pursuit for a few more moments as he finalized his plan.

Judicar rounded a massive tree, one of dozens they'd passed, all with low hanging but strong branches. Judicar reached up, grabbing one and used his forward momentum to flip upwards. He landed and recovered quickly, climbing up higher and higher. He attempted to conceal his presence in the Force, a rudimentary but heartfelt attempt. Judicar poured his will into the manuever, hoping to at least catch the man off guard. Judicar continued to move through the trees, jumping from branch to branch at a slowed pace with his concentration elsewhere. Hopefully cunning and trickery would serve him in this moment as it had in the past, and he could catch the man in a mistake or split second of confusion.

 

[Ols]

Before he had reclaimed his title as Count of Serenno, before he had become High Lord of the Bogan, when he had been little more than a hand of the Bogan, Nescius had been a master assassin. He had refined and honed his skills into a near-perfect art form, over decades of practice, trial and error. His experiences weighed heavily upon him still, even if he was no longer an assassin, his skills came through in his life, in his combat form, with or without a lightsaber, in the way he used the force. It was a part of him, and it was an extremely valuable and deadly skill set in his possession.

He could feel the force feeding into Judicar, pushing the boy after him. He should not have needed it, Nescius' speed had settled to a pace that was attainable, if not easily so, and although the jungle floor was treacherous, he should have been able to negotiate it himself. It was laziness, borne of arrogance; a flaw in all too many Jedi, light or dark.

Nescius did not immediately slow up, though, he would see what the boy planned on doing next before scolding him. He listened carefully. Before his apprentice, at least in the force, seemed to shrink. He smiled to himself, slowing his pace to a walk and folding his arms. It was clever, even if not perfectly executed. It was the sort of thing Nescius would have done, his goal seemingly unreachable he would have to circumvent the ever unattainable route one. The boy was bright.

"Nice idea," he said, giving credit where it was due, for few acolytes had the nous to do anything other than the basics, "but your technique again could be refined. The noise of the tree, along with your disappearing footfalls tells me where you went, and your concealment, although impressive in terms of skill, would have been better before you had gone upwards."

He seemed to be speaking out to nobody in particular, the boy still in the treetops.

"I should feed you to a sarlacc now though."

 

[Brand]

Judicar stopped abruptly at the sound of the casual voice of the man. Anger flared up inside his breast at the manner in which he spoke, easily, confident. Judicar hadn't expected the trick to work perfectly, far from it, but discovered that quickly?

Judicar gazed down through the trees, able to catch a quick glance of his master.

"I should feed you to a sarlacc now, though," the man remarked.

Judicar had had enough. His pride hurt, and in equal parts bitterness, hate, and self pity, he extended his hand, gathering his emotions within him. He took the efforts of the day and transformed them into power, raw power, but power none the less. Judicar released it in a Force Push, distorting the air as it left his extended palm. The blast soared down towards the man, pulverizing the encroaching twigs and branches it encountered. Judicar had no idea what he intended to accomplish, but knew that deceit and trickery could work to his advantage. He had no intentions to seriously injure the impromptu master, as he trusted the man's speed and reflexes, but show him that he was adept at utilizing his opponent's distraction to his advantage.

 

[Ols]

Nescius' eyes widened in the brief moment he had between feeling the burst of energy coming towards him and leaping out of it's way, up into the trees. The burst smashed into the ground, impacting the plants there, causing a dent to appear, the tree roots bent, branches broken. Nescius landed a few feet away from where he had been standing. That had been the most aggressive reaction to a critique he had ever had. He raised his right hand, not giving the boy a moment of respite, and used a stream of energy to yank him down from the branches.

Judicar would fly down and his the dented, muddy ground face-first. Hard. And as he did, Nescius released his hold.

"You didn't even ask why I wanted to feed you to a sarlacc this time..." he said, matter-of-factly, as if he had not just tried to pulverise him, and as if Nescius had not just smashed him into the ground.

 

[Brand]

The man moved in a blur, dodging Judicar's Force push. Almost immediately afterwards he felt himself lifted upwards outside of his own volition, and the air whistled through his ears as he was thrown towards the ground.

Judicar threw up a basic Force shield around himself but his body bore the brunt of the attack. If it wasn't for the shield he could have easily expected broken ribs, but none the less he felt bruises forming and various scrapes and cuts on his legs. Mud splattered onto his face, and he wiped it from his eyes and surveyed his surroundings. He stood in the dented forest floor, gazing eye to eye with the man. Judicar had no idea how to gauge or estimate the man's next move, but after the skillful displays of his in the lightsaber and the Force Judicar knew submission was his only choice from here on out.

Judicar clipped his deactivated lightsaber hilt to his belt and stood still, his eyes watching for the man's next move, aggressive or not.

 

[Ols]

"Still you say nothing, you don't even ask a question," Nescius said, observing the facts, but at the same time his words hanging almost quizzically in the air before him. Nescius was not one to assault an apprentice for a basic wrong article. He had killed apprentices before, and he was sure he would again, but he would not kill one because they were not already perfect. That was the entire point of training, if they were already the finished article, if they could already do everything he required, if they knew everything he taught, his role was useless and he would be wasting his time. In fact, he had only ever killed them before for pure incompetence, for ignoring previous lessons he had taught.

"There was a reason I threatened you, you know," he said, "and you not even venturing a curiousity, as admirable as fighting for my approval is, does almost carry a hint of suggestion that you don't care about what I said. I do hope that is not the case."

 

[Brand]

Judicar's brow furrowed. His mind worked quickly to rectify the situation.

"That was not my intention, my lord. I do care..."

Judicar paused. "I seriously doubt the existence of any readily hungry sarlacc on Serenno, though; besides, why waste your time with me now to just feed me to a beast later? I believe I have the potential to be a worthy follower of the Bogan, someone who can bring prestige to your name within the Empire."

 

[Ols]

"You care about what I said, but thought the threat was empty based on literal logistics," Nescius said with a smile, "clever, although the threat was more metaphorical, I was saying that I would cause you the kind of pain and death that rotting for hundreds of years in a sarlacc's stomach might cause an individual. Or I would just cart you to Felucia or Tatooine or anywhere else there is a readily hungry sarlacc waiting for a snack. Not that humans are particularly tasty, or nourishing..."

"And don't worry about your potential. That is for me to worry about," Nescius added, "just so you know, while I would not wish to waste my time, I also do know that sometimes losses must be cut. I am human after all, there is every chance my judgement of you may be proved wrong, and if it is I will not hesitate in rectifying my decision to train you," his words were stern, and they carried with them an implicit threat. Though as long as Judicar did as well as Nescius believe he would, then he would not have to act on it.

"But do not think I am training you for vanity and glory. I am training you because you are useful, you will be a great asset to the Bogan, and to me. But do not aspire to be a follower. Aspire to be the best possible, and realise your actual potential. I am not saying you should aspire to be the conqueror of the galaxy, or simply a pawn. Your role will become apparent to you as you begin to fill it. But fill it willingly, whatever it turns out to be. Do you understand?"

 

[Brand]

Judicar dipped his head. "Wise words," he remarked simply.

A slight drizzle fell down, only slight droplets making it's way to the forest floor. Judicar shook his head, the adrenaline beginning to filter out of his system. Weariness and fatigue flooded his systems, causing his knees to come close to crumbling. The sheer physical exertion he had experienced in the past half an hour was staggering, including a short but brutal duel utilizing the tiring Form IV and a speedy chase. Judicar closed his eyes, gathering his strength and again rising to his full height.

"I apologize. This has been one of the most strenuous training sessions I've ever taken part in." Judicar paused. "What would you have of me next, my lord?"

 

[Ols]

"I would think I was going soft if it was not strenuous," Nescius replied, before adding quickly, "and next I would have you understand why I told you not to use the force whimsically and threatened to feed you to a sarlacc if you did it again. It's not some bitter conservative tendency for me to take out angst, as per most logical being, I have a reason for telling you this."

He wiped his brow, a mixture of sweat and raindrops making it wet, and stinging his eyes as it dripped down. Few raindrops still fell onto his brow, cooling him.

"A true master of Ataru," he continued, "will not utilise the force throughout as you did. They would use it more sparingly. Yes it would push them through the acrobatics and jumps, but if a deflection can be made without it driving your body, or a thrust made without it pulsing through your arm, the duellist will do such a thing. In doing so they will last twice as long as you ever could in a duel before they even began to tire in such a way. Drawing on the force is draining. It is a gift we have, but a gift we must utilise with caution, or else it will screw us over. It will make us forget who we are. Yes, it can make a mortal a god, but it cannot make one immortal."