You enter one of the dozens of sparring chambers within the Shadow Academy of Lyspair, the simple square room utilized mostly by those learning the ways of the lightsaber. This five hundred square-foot room, rectangular in shape, is nearly barren. The floor is lined with simple padding, while the walls are made of dull, grey durasteel, gauged by innumerable lightsaber strikes, scarring the metal permanently.

The ceiling towers above you, nearly twenty feet in height, allowing for plenty of movement from the more acrobatic of Force users. There are no other adornments within the room, save for the entrance and lighting that bathes the entire room, yet seems to come from nowhere. All corners of the room are perfectly lit, with no visible shadows to speak of. There is nowhere for you to hide within the room, but… there's no room for your opponent to hide either.

Tasha’Vel couldn’t help but reminisce some of the old battles she fought as she ran her hands along the lightsaber scarred walls of the sparring rooms. “It’s been a long time since I have been back here, but it still feels good to visit occasionally.” She leaned against the side of the wall briefly and listened to the sounds of many journeymen practicing their skills on several training droids. Smiling to herself, Tasha then continued walking softly down the halls. “Train while you can journeymen, because soon you won’t be facing training droids.”

After turning a corner, Tasha could hear the sound of blaster fire coming from the room up ahead. “Interesting, that is something I don’t hear everyday.” Tasha peered curiously into the room and spotted Qyreia, one of the new members of Naga Sadow, shooting her blaster at several training droids in front of her. The blue Twi’lek watched with interest as the Zeltron swiftly maneuvered to the left of the room and shot down the last training droid. As Tasha stepped into the room, Qyreia turned around and glanced up at the Knight. “What brings you in here, Twilek?”

“I heard blaster fire and was curious as to who might be using a blaster rather than a lightsaber.”

“Blasters have always saved my skin in difficult situations, I couldn't imagine not using one.” The Zeltron answered as she stood with her blaster raised.

“I have come to find that a lot of people who use blasters tend to use dirty tricks to get their way out of things, rather than fight honorably.” Tasha stated, “However, I do know one particular person who is very good with a blaster I fought once. We were rivals back in the day, but those were some of the best times I had.” She grinned a bit as she thought of Bentre Stahoes. He had always been quite a match for her. Realizing that she was still talking with Qyreia, Tasha quickly went back to the point she was trying to make to the Zeltron.

“Anyhow, as I see it, any person can pick up a blaster and fire it, but those that are really determined can even take down a force user. Judging from how you took out those training droids, you seem to have some skill. Care to practice with me?”

“Eh, training droids are boring anyway. This does sound much more fun, I accept.” Smiling at the new opportunity, Qyreia put her left foot back a bit and aimed her blaster for the Twi’lek. “I want to see you dance.”

“Oh, you will have quite the performance Qyreia, but you may find yourself doing a bit of dancing yourself.” Tasha brought her lightsaber up from her left side and ignited the blade. It snapped to life with a crackling hiss as the crimson light bathed her face in a hellish red. Quickly, she moved her left foot back slightly and brought her right foot forward a bit, while swinging her blade diagonally in front of her. “Shall we begin?”

If not for the Brotherhood’s training, Tasha’Vel’s display alone might have dissuaded the mercenary from this challenge. Instead, Qyreia steadied her stance and took aim with her pistol, thankful that her blasters’ power had been reduced for the sake of target practice. While she hoped that Tasha had done likewise, the beam of red energy did not seem any less potent.

With a practiced twitch, she adjusted her sights and fired, only to have the Jedi block the bolt and bounce it back into the floor between them. “Ah frack,” she muttered as the Twi’lek shifted and charged, quickly closing the distance between them. The trigger went back time and time again, and red bolts flew with deadly accuracy at the blue humanoid, only to have each one deflected and redirected back at her. More than once, Qyreia had to shift, juke, and dodge her own rounds thanks to that Jedi.

Too slow, the Jedi’s expression said as she made the final lunge, swinging at Qyreia in a powerful diagonal arc. The Zeltron only narrowly avoided the strike, rolling under and away in haphazard somersaults with each successive swing. Her peripheral vision caught her carbine, leaning against the wall. With a double-roll, the mercenary managed to exceed the immediate range of the other woman’s swing, regain her feet, and make a mad dash for her other weapon.

I can make it, she thought, firing blindly backward to slow down her opponent a little. It proved a fruitless maneuver as the sound of fleet footsteps came up alongside her, the Jedi’s already fantastic abilities apparently even more profound than Qyreia had thought.

“Going somewhere?”

The red blade cut horizontally, level with Qyreia’s eyes, once again only meeting air and making a splash of sparks on contact with the wall when the Zeltron ducked and rolled to a halt. Having just stopped, she didn’t have time to take proper aim before the Twi’lek likewise stopped and reversed her advance in a graceful twist. The mercenary’s adept proficiency with blasters, though, allowed her to take several choice shots at her opponent.

The sudden flurry temporarily threw Tasha off of her intended trajectory, forcing her to deflect or dodge the close-range onslaught. Is that all you’ve got? she thought, her adrenaline kicking into high gear when one stray bolt snuck past her guard and caught her lightly on the ribs. She effortlessly recovered from her defensive maneuver and leapt at the Zeltron, trapped with the wall to her back.

“Oh kriff!”

Tiring though she was, Qyreia managed to kick out at the wall for leverage and roll away from the attack between the blue woman’s legs. She was about to bring her pistol to bear again when, in an almost dance-like motion, Tasha’Vel swept her leg out in a swift and powerful kick that knocked the weapon clear to the other side of the room. As she completed the graceful spin, facing the supine Zeltron, she flourished her lightsaber for the coup de grace.

“Any last words?”

“I’m not done yet, schutta!”

As if to punctuate her insult, the red woman launched her leg upward squarely into her opponent’s groin – a tactic that was just as viable on females as males, she had found. This Jedi was no exception. Her face contorted in mixtures of pain and wrath in equal measure, Qyreia thought she had gained a foothold in the fight, only to watch as Tasha brought a shuddering hand, fingers curled like claws, level with her face. The sadistic smile on her lips was enough to bring fear into Qyreia’s mind. It was solidified when the Jedi swept her arm back and, in an underhand motion, sent the Zeltron flying across the room to land with several rough tumbles until she was finally stopped by the wall.

“Damn Jedi,” she managed to cough as the soft sounds of Tasha’s feet began their approach.

Tasha growled as she approached the disheveled looking Zeltron against the wall. “Dirty tricks only work for so long.” She began to step forward slowly as Qyreia struggled to edge away from the wall, eager to reach her pistol. The mercenary barely managed to avoid the sideways swing of the crimson lightsaber as she ducked and rolled. She felt relief as her fingers closed upon her trusty weapon. Her hands shaking terribly, the Yeoman lifted her weapon and lined a rough shot. Qyreia fired the pistol, her eyes widening as the bolt managed to clip the Twi’lek’s left lekku. The Marauder let out a barely-contained roar of pain as she stumbled back. With her free hand, Tasha rubbed her sore lekku before tossing it behind her. “You really are asking for it now, aren’t you?”

Seizing the opportunity to withdraw from the oncoming threat, Qyreia struggled to gain more distance from the Marauder. Already feeling like someone hit her with a load of bricks, she tried mustering as much strength as she could and attempted to sprint away while firing a random spray of red bolts from her pistol towards the recovering Twi’lek.

Though her lekku still stung horribly, Tasha groaned as she spun her blade around to the left and right, trying to keep most of the shots away from her body and darted towards the right of the room to avoid the rest of the bolts. Two of the bolts managed to graze her left shoulder and right side as she dodged.

She really has become an annoying nuisance, but she thinks on her feet and has managed to distance herself. She did not do badly for herself. At least, she has proven to me that a mere blast of the Force is not sufficient to take her down or break her will. I have to be careful with this one. She is certain to have more tricks to her than she shows. If I am going to finish this, I have to hit hard and fast.

Despite the painful reminder, Tasha took a moment to calm her mind and re-focus. She turned off the lightsaber and put it away much to the surprise of Qyreia, who stopped shooting momentarily.

"What is she doing?"

Smiling at the baffled Zeltron, Tasha dashed with an almost inhuman speed, closed the distance and delivered a gut wrenching side kick straight into the shocked mercenary's stomach. The force of the kick winded Qyreia, made her cry out in pain, and knocked her backwards onto the ground. Without a hint of hesitation, Tasha brought her leg down. pinning the Mercenary’s shoulders to the ground before she drew her Echani Vibroblade menacingly. She put the blade’s tip to the Yeoman’s throat, with just enough pressure to puncture the skin slightly.

“You fight well Qyreia, however there is still much you can learn. You have taught me a lesson though. Never underestimate your opponent, whether they have force abilities or not. If you had been able to keep the distance, I would not be standing over you as I am now. Your tricks, mobility, and abilities are very impressive. If you keep training and working hard, I know that you will one day be able to take down anyone. So let this be a lesson to always train hard, and keep your opponent guessing.”

Sheathing her blade, Tasha lifted her leg off the Zeltron, offering a hand up and chuckling. “Now what do you say we get you to the medical bay and fix up those injuries. I wouldn't want you passing out on me.”

“You’re beaten, mercenary,” the Twi’lek said as she casually made her way toward Qyreia. “For your own good, stay down.”

“Frack you,” she responded, coughing as she started to rise on shaky legs. I can beat her. Just need to get her in close enough.

The Zeltron’s impudence was rewarded with a second telepathic slam into her body, throwing her violently into the wall. Clearly, Tasha was not in a forgiving mood after the previous kick to the crotch. “You held up well, I’ll give you that, but I don’t like girls that fight dirty.”

“Aww, the little schutta wants to play innocent?” the mercenary coughed, forcing a smile against the raging headache from the whiplash against the wall. She managed to struggle to her feet one last time. “That’s cute.”

The subtle twitch in the Jedi’s eye solidified her dire need to exact some punishment on the mundane being before her. She readied her fist and whirled another invisible mallet directly at Qyreia’s bull’s-eye-colored face. The Twi’lek was close enough that the mercenary knew she wouldn’t be able to fully dodge it, but the attack was slow, trading speed for power. She took a step toward the Force user’s right, taking the wallop from the attack hard into her own right shoulder. It spun her, even threw her off balance, but Qyreia managed to stagger further along. Perfect.

“Lay down!” With a furious display of her abilities, Versea sent a rapid whip of Force energy at the beleaguered girl, sending her flying…

…right into the corner of the room where the blaster carbine stood, leaning against the wall.

The fall had been rough, but not nearly as harsh as being thrown against the hard walls, and Qyreia was able to tumble – haphazardly though it was – right alongside her blaster. Tasha’Vel realized too late the mistake of letting her desire for vengeance take over as the Zeltron grabbed the firearm and, sitting up against the intersecting walls, took shaky aim and began a furious barrage of fire. The Twi’lek was only momentarily caught off-guard, and quickly recovered before the first blaster bolt even left the barrel, deflecting the first few at odd angles before narrowing the angle and sending them back to their source.

The Jedi’s pace quickened as Qyreia was forced to duck her head from a pair of accurately returned bolts that fizzled against the wall to either side of her head. She managed a wild shot at her opponent’s feet that fell outside of her defensive arc, singeing her calf and forcing her to kneel to a guard for a moment. Tasha only suffered deflecting a few more shots before deciding that enough was enough. The merc wants to fight? Then I let her feel the pain. Gathering up the anger and insults she had withstood, she thrust her hand out and sent a crippling shock of electricity across the short distance between the two combatants.

The grueling shock caused the mercenary’s muscles to spasm and digits to curl, dropping her blaster as a leg drew up to her chest in a vain effort at defense. She only had time for a few breaths when she heard the vicious hum of the Jedi’s lightsaber brought down in a swift arc, stopping just short of her throat.

“This fight,” Tasha said, sweat finally starting to bead on her blue flesh, “is over.”

“Guess so,” Qyreia struggled. “Call it a draw?”

“Why would I…?” Tasha’s eyes looked down, following the Zeltron’s arm down to her fist which held a knife against the underside of her leg, its scabbard peeking out of the mercenary’s boot.

“I may not be any good for anything but bandaging small cuts,” she groaned, “but most humanoids have the same blood flow.”

“If you manage to hit the artery,” the Jedi chided. She drew the blade right up to Qyreia’s neck, interrupting the weapon’s containment field, her red flesh blistering and burning in a thin line along the blade’s edge. Their eyes glared at each other for several long moments before Tasha stepped back and deactivated her saber. “Alright. Draw.”

Qyreia finally managed to relax herself. “Oh thank the fracking Fo-…” Crack!

The Twi’lek slowly let her foot down from Qyreia’s forehead, the rapid kick serving to knock her out soundly mid-sentence. That’s for calling me schutta, she thought with a wicked grin. Her feet carried her to the door, a slight limp in one leg from the stinging stun-shot, where she paused to look back at her opponent. Broken and bleeding, the Zeltron still sat against the wall, slumped over and looking like she had been spit out by a rancor.

Her hand hesitated for a moment over the door panel before pressing the button to call a medic team. She might be a loner, she thought as she sauntered away, but this Jedi was still able to recognize a fair match. “Not bad for your first time, merc. Better luck next time.”