Articles... Dark Jedi Knight Korbane |
One
who had not been raised in the perpetual gloom of the under layers of
Coruscant would not have noticed the subtle shift in the depth of
darkness, the slight tingling breeze of fresher air. To Teachdaire the
changes came as obviously as a slap in the face, and he picked up his
pace, hoisting his wounded tyro to his side. "What
is it?" the frightened tyro demanded, glancing about as if he
expected the Obelisk Warlord Asuko Harmann to jump out of the nearest
shadows and devour him. They
passed a wide but low side passage, sloping upward. Teachdaire
hesitated, his direction sense screaming to him that he had just passed
the correct tunnel. He ignored those silent pleas, though, and continued
on, hopeful that the opening to the outside world would be accessible
enough for him and his tyro to get a welcome breath of fresh air. It
was. They rounded the a bend in the tunnel and felt the chilly burst of
wind in their faces, saw a lighter opening ahead, and saw beyond it
towering mountains... and stars! The
tyro’s profound sigh of relief echoed Teachdaire's sentiments
perfectly as he carried him on his back. When they came out of the
tunnel, both of them nearly overcome by the splendor of the mountainous
scene spread wide before them, by the sheer beauty of the surface world
under the stars, so removed from the sky less mountains of the caverns
they had been trapped and hunted in before. The wind rushing past them
seemed a vital and alive entity. They
were on a narrow ledge, two-thirds of the way to the bottom of a steep
thousand foot cliff. A narrow path wound
up to the right, down to the left, but only at a slight angle,
which offered little hope that it would continue long enough to get them
either up or down the cliff. Teachdaire
considered towering the cliff. He knew that he could easily manage a few
hundred feet to the bottom, could probably get to the top without to
much trouble, but he didn't think he could bring his wounded tyro with
him and didn't like the prospect of being in an unknown stretch of
wilderness, not knowing how long it would take to get back the task
force that had landed to take over this fortress. The
rest of the phyle, not so far away, was in trouble he could sense it. "That
looks like a landing barge is over there," Teachdaire's tyro
remarked hopefully, pointing to the northwest, "probably no more
then a few miles." Teachdaire
nodded but replied, "We have to go back in." While
the tyro did not seem pleased by that prospect, he did not argue,
understanding that he could not get off this ledge in his present
condition. "Well
done," came Asuko's voice from up the bend. The warlord's dark
silhouette came into sight, the jewels attached to his lightsaber
glimmering like the heat of his eyes. "I knew you would come to
this place," he explained to Teachdaire. "I knew that you
would sense the clean air and make for it." "Do
you congratulate me or yourself?" the Dark Jedi Knight asked. "Both!"
Asuko replied with a hearty laugh. The white of his teeth disappeared,
replaced by a cold frown, as he continued to approach. "The tunnel
you passed fifty yards back will indeed take you to the higher level,
where you'll likely find your phyle... your dead phyle no doubt." Teachdaire
didn't take the bait, didn't let his rage send him charging ahead. "But
you can not get there, can you?" Asuko teased. "You alone
could keep ahead of me, could avoid the battle that I demand. But, alas
for your wounded tyro." Think of it, Teachdaire. Leave the tyro and
you can run free!" Teachdaire
didn't justify the absurd thought with a reply. "I
would leave him," Asuko remarked, dropping the cold glare over the
tyro as he spoke. The tyro gave a curious whimper and slumped on the
strong back of Teachdaire. Teachdaire
tried not to imagine the horrors his tyro had suffered at the vile hands
of the Obelisk Warlord Asuko. "You
will not leave him," Asuko continued. "We long ago established
the difference between us, the difference you call strength, but that I
know to be weakness." He was only a dozen strides away; his slender
lightsaber unleashed its energy with a hum, illuminating him in its
blue-green glow. "And so to our business," he said. "And
so to our destiny." Do you like the battlefield I have prepared?
The only way off this ledge is the tunnel behind you, and so I, like
yourself, can not flee, must play it out to the end." He looked
over the cliff as he spoke. "A deadly drop for the loser," he
explained, smiling. "A fight with no reprieve." Teachdaire
could not deny the sensations that came over him, the heat in his breast
and behind his eyes. He could not deny that, in some repressed corner of
his heart and soul, he wanted this challenge, wanted to prove Asuko
wrong, to prove the Obelisk Warlord's existence to be worthless. Now,
with his tyro helpless behind him and his phyle somewhere above, facing
the armies of Malachai, the challenge would be met. He
felt the hard metal of his lightsaber handles in his hands; let his eyes
slip back fully into the normal spectrum of light as one flared an angry
blue and the other raging green. Asuko
halted, twin blue-green lightsabers in each hand and motioned for
Teachdaire to approach. They
started easily, each measuring his steps on the unorthodox arena. The
ledge was perhaps ten feet wide at this point, but narrowed considerably
just behind Teachdaire and just behind Asuko. A
backhand slash with the lightsaber led Asuko's routine, with his other
lightsaber thrusting after the slash. Two
solid parries sounded, and Teachdaire snapped one lightsaber for the
opening between Asuko's blades, an opening that was closed by a
retreating lightsaber in the blink of an eye, with Teachdaire's attack
slapped harmlessly aside. They
circled, Teachdaire inside near the wall, the Obelisk Warlord moving
easily near the drop. Asuko slashed low, unexpectedly coming in from his
normal attacks. Teachdaire
hopped the shortened cut, came with a two-chop combination for the
ducking Warlord's head. Ausko's lightsaber darted left and right, worked
horizontally above his head to block ensuing blows, and shifted its
angle slightly to poke ahead, to keep the Dark Jedi Knight as bay while
the Obelisk Warlord could gain equal footing. "It
will not be a quick kill," Asuko promised with an evil smile. As if
to disprove his own claim, he leaped furiously, lightsaber leading. Teachdaire's
hands worked in a blur, his lightsabers hitting the deftly angled weapon
repeatedly. Teachdaire worked to his side, kept his back from flattening
against the wall. Teachdaire
fully agreed with the Obelisk Warlord's estimate, this would not be a
quick kill, whoever might win. They would fight for many minutes, for an
hour perhaps. And to what end? Teachdaire wondered. What gain could he
expect? Would Malachai and his soldiers show up and bring the challenge
to a premature conclusion? How
venerable would Teachdaire and his tyro be then, with nowhere to run and
a drop of several hundred feet just inches away! Again
the Warlord pressed the attack, and then again Teachdaire worked his
lightsabers through the proper, perfectly balanced defenses, Asuko
getting nowhere near hitting him. Asuko
went into a spin then, imitating Teachdaire's movements in their
previous encounter from years ago, working his two blades like the edge
of a screw to force Teachdaire back to a narrower position on the ledge. Teachdaire
was surprised that the Warlord had learned the daring and difficult
maneuver so completely after only two observations from years ago, but
it was a move that Teachdaire had designed, and he knew how to counter
it. He,
too, went into a spinning rotation, lightsabers flowing, up and down.
The lightsabers connected repeatedly with each turn, each hit causing
shrieks of energy to come from the lightsabers, green and blue mixing in
an indistinct blur. Teachdaire moved right by Asuko the Warlord reversed
his spin suddenly, but Teachdaire saw the shift and came to a stop, both
lightsabers blocking the reversed cut of his opponent. Teachdaire
began once more, counter to Asuko, and this time, when Asuko again
turned his rotation back the other way the Dark Jedi Knight anticipated
it so fully that he actually reversed direction first. For
Teachdaire's tyro staring helplessly, not daring to intervene, and for
any of the region's nocturnal creatures that might have been watching,
there was no words to describe the amazing dance, the interweaving
colors as the two opponents glowing lightsabers passed, the cold blue of
Teachdaire's eyes, and the red heat of Asuko's. The shrieks of the
energy blades became a symphony, a myriad of notes playing to the dance,
evoking a strange sense of harmony between these bitter enemies. They
stopped in unison, a few feet apart, both understanding that there would
be no end to that spinning dance, no advantage by either player. They
stood like bookends of identical weight. Asuko
laughed aloud at the realization, laughed so that he might savor this
moment, this many act play that would perhaps see dawn, and perhaps
never be resolved. Teachdaire
found no humor, and his private eagerness at the beginning of the
challenge had flown, leaving him with the weight of responsibility for
his tyro and his phyle in the upper levels of the tunnels. The
Warlord came in low and hard, lightsaber darting, climbing with each
strike as Asuko gradually straighten his stance, taking a full measure
of Teachdaire's defenses from a variety of cutting angles. Asuko
settled him into a parrying rhythm, and then broke the melody with a
vicious cut. The Warlord howled with glee thinking that his lightsaber
had slipped thought Teachdaire's defense. Teachdaire's
lightsaber had come from nowhere intercepting the attack cleanly barely
an inch from Teachdaire's side. The Warlord grimaced and stubbornly
tried to push on as he came to understand the truth. Teachdaire's
expression was even colder still and neither lightsaber moved an inch. A
twist of the Dark Jedi Knights wrist and both lightsabers went flying
wide. Asuko was wise enough to push off and break the clench, to circle
back and wait for the next opportunity to present itself. "I
almost had you," he taunted. He hid his frown well as Teachdaire in
no way responded, not with words, not with body movements, not with the
unyielding set of features on his face. A
lightsaber snapped across, shrieking loudly through the breeze as Asuko
brought his locking lightsaber in its path. A
sudden sound assaulted Teachdaire, reminded him that Malachai might not
be far away. He pictured his phyle in dire trouble, captured or dead. He
locked his stares with Asuko, reminded himself that this man had been
the one to cause it all, that this enemy had tricked him into the
tunnels, had separated him from his phyle. And
now Teachdaire could not protect them. A
lightsaber snapped across; the other came slashing in the other way
Teachdaire repeated the routine, the a third time, each movement, each
sheik of energy against energy, bringing his thoughts more in line with
this task, heightening his warrior senses. Each
strike was perfectly aimed, and each parry intercepted the attacking
lightsabers perfectly, yet neither Teachdaire nor Asuko, locked through
their staring eyes into a mental combat, watched their hands through
physical movements. Neither one blinked, not when the breeze of
Teachdaire's lightsaber high slice moved the hair atop the Warlords
head, not when Asuko's lightsaber came to a parried stop a hairsbreadth
from Teachdaire's eye. Teachdaire
felt his momentum building, felt the give and take of battle coming
quicker, strike and parry. Asuko, as consumed as his opponent, paced
him. The
movements of their bodies began to catch the blur of hands and weapons.
Asuko dipped a shoulder, sword lashing out straight ahead; Teachdaire
spun a complete circle, parrying behind his back as he flitted out of
reach. Images
of his phyle captured by Malachai tormented the Tetarch of the Hells
Gatekeepers; He pictured Timeros, wounded or dying with a red lightsaber
at his throat. Teachdaire accepted the images, gave the mental assault
his full attention, let the fear for his phyle fuel his anger. That had
been the difference between him and the Warlord, he told himself, told
part of himself that argued for him to keep his mind clear and his
movements precise and well considered. That
was how Asuko played the game, always in control, never feeling anything
beyond the enemy at hand. A
slight growl escaped Teachdaire's lips; his burning blue eyes simmered
in the starlight. In his mind his student Leara screamed out in pain. He
came at Asuko in a wild rush. The
Warlord laughed at him, lightsabers working furiously to keep
Teachdaire’s two lightsabers at bay. "Give in to the rage,"
he taunted. "Let go of you control!" Asuko
did not understand that was precisely the point. Teachdaire's
lightsaber chopped in, to be predictably parried by Asuko's lightsaber.
It wouldn't be easy for the Warlord this time though. Teachdaire
retracted and struck again, and again, repeatedly, willingly slamming
this lightsaber against the Warlords already poised weapon. His other
lightsaber came in furiously from the other side; Asuko's other
lightsaber turned it aside. Teachdaire's
ensuing flurry, sheer madness, it seemed, kept the Warlord back on his
heels. A dozen hits, two dozen, sounded like one long cry of shrieking
energy. Asuko's
expression betrayed his laughter. He had not expected this wild and
offensive routine, had not expected Teachdaire to be so daring. If he
could get one lightsaber free for just an instant, the Dark Jedi Knight
would be vulnerable. But
Asuko could not free up either lightsaber. Fires drove Teachdaire on,
kept his pace impossibly fast and his concentration perfect. To the
darkness with his own life, he decided, for his phyle needed him to
prevail. On
and on the offensive routine continued; his tyro covered his ears at the
horrid wail and shriek of the lightsabers, but the tyro could not, for
all his terror, take his gaze away from the fighting masters. How many
times the tyro expected one or both to pitch over the cliff! How many
times he thought a lightsaber had thrust and struck home! But they
somehow kept on fighting, each attack just missing, and each defense in
line at the last possible instant. Lightsabers
came together; Teachdaire's following strike from the other side was not
parried but went short as Asuko shifted his foot and fell back a step. The
Warlords hand shot forward. Asuko released a primal scream of victory,
thinking Teachdaire had slipped up. Teachdaire's
lightsaber came across from its high perch faster then Asuko expected,
faster then the Warlord believed possible, gashing his forearm and
instant before he got his lightsaber to Teachdaire's exposed belly. Back
flew Teachdaire's lightsaber, flinging one Asuko's lightsabers away from
his grasp. Asuko leaped ahead to get in close, realizing his
vulnerability. His
sudden charge saved his life, but while Teachdaire could not angle the
tip of his free lightsaber for a killing thrust, he could, and did,
punch out with the handle, connecting solidly with Asuko's face, sending
the man staggering backward. On
came the Dark Jedi Knight, lightsabers flashing relentlessly, driving
Asuko back to within an inch of the cliff. The Warlord tried to go to
his right, but one lightsaber knocked aside his blocking lightsaber
while the other’s maneuvering kept Teachdaire directly in front of
him. The Warlord started left, but with his wounded arm slow to react,
he knew could not get beyond the Dark Jedi Knight’s reach in time.
Asuko held his ground, parrying furiously, trying find a countering
routine that would drive his possessed enemy back. Teachdaire’s
breaths came in short puffs as he found rhythm to his frantic pace. His
eyes flared, unrelenting, as he reminded himself over and over that his
phyle was possibly dying, and that he could not help them. He
fell too far into the rage, hardly registered the movement as one of
Asuko’s lightsabers flew at him. At the very instant, he ducked aside,
the skin above his cheekbone slashed in a three-inch long cut. More
importantly Teachdaire’s forward rhythm was shattered. His arms ached
from the exertion; his momentum had played itself out. On
came the snarling Obelisk Warlord, lightsaber poking, even scoring a
slight hit, as he drove Teachdaire back and around. By the time the Dark
Jedi Knight had regained his balance somewhat, his toes, not Asuko’s,
were squarely facing the mountain wall, his heels feeling the
free-flowing emptiness of the mountain winds. “I
am better!” Asuko proclaimed, and his ensuing attack proved his claim.
Lightsaber slashing and darting, he drove Teachdaire’s heel over the
edge. Teachdaire
dropped to one knee to keep his weight forward. He felt the wind keenly,
heard his tyro scream his name. Asuko
could have called his lost lightsaber back too him now, but he sensed
the kill, sensed he would never again have a better opportunity to end
this game. His lightsaber came down in fury; Teachdaire seemed to buckle
under its weight, seemed to slip even further over the edge of the
cliff. A
part of Teachdaire wanted to give in then, to simply lie back, and let
the mountains take him, but it was a fleeting moment of weakness, one
from which Teachdaire recoiled , one that fueled his indomitable spirit
and lent strength to his weary arms. But
so, too, was hungry Asuko fueled. Teachdaire
slipped suddenly and had to grab the ledge, releasing his grip on his
lightsaber. The angry blue lightsaber toppled over the cliff, skipping
down along the stones. Asuko’s
lightsaber slammed down, blocked by Teachdaire’s remaining lightsaber.
The Warlord howled and jumped back, coming right back with a thrust. Teachdaire
could not stop it, Asuko knew, his eyes going wide as the moment of
victory finally presented itself. The twisted Dark Jedi Knight’s angle
was all wrong; Teachdaire couldn’t possibly get the remaining
lightsaber down and turned in line in time. He
couldn’t stop it! Teachdaire
didn’t stop it. He had quietly coiled one leg under him for a roll,
and went to the side and ahead as the lightsaber dove in, narrowly
missing. Teachdaire spun his prone body about, one foot kicking against
the front of Asuko’s ankle, the other hooking the Obelisk Warlord
behind the knee. Only
then did Asuko realize that the Dark Jedi Knight’s slip, and lost
lightsaber, had been a ruse. Only then did Asuko Harmann realize that
his own hunger for the kill had defeated him. His
momentum forward with the eager thrust, he pitched toward the ledge.
Every muscle in his body went taut; he somehow managed to catch hold of
Teachdaire’s boot. The
momentum was too great for Teachdaire, still sidelong on the smooth
ledge, to hold them both back. The Dark Jedi Knight pulled out straight
as he went over, right above Asuko, skidding down the stone. Teachdaire
held tightly to his second lightsaber, jamming the blade in the stone
and found a grasp with his other hand. He
shuddered to a stop, and Asuko stretched out below him, over an inverted
section that offered the Obelisk Warlord no chance of a handhold.
Teachdaire thought his entire insides would be ripped out. He glanced
down to see one of Asuko’s hands waving wildly; the other clutched
desperately to Teachdaire’s boot. Teachdaire
groaned and grimaced, as he moved his other boot into position to strike
Asuko’s hand. “No!”
he heard Asuko deny, apparently understanding the precariousness of his
position. “This
is not the way to claim victory!” Asuko called up to him in a
desperate burst. “This defeats the purpose of the challenge and
dishonors you!” Teachdaire
reminded himself of his the torture his tyro must have endured and the
dangerous situation that his phyle in the upper levels must be in. “You
did not win!” Asuko cried out. Teachdaire
let the fires of his blue eyes speak for him. He set his hands and
squared his jaw. Kicking out with all his might he struck the Obelisk
Warlords hand perfectly. Asuko
scrambled and kicked for an instant in midair and almost got another
hold with his free hand. |