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An arrogant smile coats your face, one brimming with false self-confidence. You will show Alyla that you aren’t just a helpless initiate, you’ve learnt so much in these past five years, and you are growing stronger by the day. Lightsaber lessons, once full of mystery and excitement, now are dull and repetitive. You have surpassed your class a long time ago, and you need a challenge, something to truly test your skill or allow you to resume learning once again. This is it, your impossible battle to prove the time that the Masters invested into you was not a waste, to prove that you alone were worth freeing instead of one of the millions still shackled. You give Alyla a mock confident wink and ignite both blades.
Thrown towards you with an incredible leap, a ball of bright blue plasma rips through the distance, and smothers you. You are slow, far too slow. The Knight spits out a wild slash at your leading leg, only to be caught by a sweep of your Shoto blade in the knick of time. Then almost instantly, she follows up with a slash to your neck. If not for the low-power setting of her blade or the fact you took a step backwards, your head would be lost.
Your world is one of sapphire plasma. The sky, sea and sand robbed by the speed and ferocity of Alyla’s assault. She beats at your defences a thousand times a second, pummelling them, degrading them, searching for openings you are struggling to close. You can’t hold on, every lightspeed attack forces you to retreat one step after another. Pushing you back inch-by-inch, controlling the fight, dominating you. She is winning, and there is nothing you can do, except hold on.
Soresu and your undeniable skill in the style are all that is keeping you in this fight. Small parries manage to send her jabs slightly off course, just enough so that the blows miss. Wide sweeps occasionally catch both Lightsabers and draw them away from what could be dual killing blows. A slight movement of your feet or shift of your body allows a blade of pure light to miss you by the narrowest margin. All you are is put into this defence, you have not even thrown a strike in her direction, and it just isn’t enough. Your arms begin to transmute into lead, and your concentration erodes under the relentless swarm of plasma.
Alyla, jaw locked tight in supreme concentration, finds it. With both her Lightsabers, she clinches yours locking all four blades together, then uses her strength maximised by the Force. Pushing the quartet away from both your bodies and outwards, leaving both Jedi with no guard. A lightning snap strikes out, the speed of a starfighter, the power of a Rancor; a kick scythes out from the Chiss and slams into your chest.
