Noventa - A Star Wars Story

Sharn wondered why he would ever need to satisfy any criteria laid out by this woman but without too much analysis he considered it potentially worthwhile. The playful smirk of a True Sith was hard not to. He understood being manipulable in this regard, but he couldn't help it. "I have every intention to be grander than I am now."

"Then learn all you can of her culture. Without condescension. It will serve you well." She nodded at that. "Otherwise, you'll just be a disappointment to me." A smirk again, playful at that. "One grows through time and experience, you'll learn that as you delve deeply into your own path through the Force."

He nodded. "I'll take in under consideration. Becoming a user of violent means instead of just providing them is relatively new to me. However, it won't be difficult." He looked the Inquisitor in the eyes. "My interest in your daughter is indeed long-term."

She smirked. "Might be considered as such, though it is the thought process that matters. Take it as you will, Sharn. The Force isn't all quantum mechanics and equations, though not the first time I've heard that belief, either." She laughed slightly, then looked to the workbench again. "You should consider building yourself some armor sometime. Especially if your interest in Runi is long term. A part of Mandalorian culture which she might be impressed with."

"Your last advice seems dangerously close to religion to me. I don't condone those." Sharn said carefully, nevertheless thinking on what she had said, trying to put it in terms acceptable to him.

"It isn't just about following hunches. It is about exisiting in the moment, and feeling the galaxy around you, infinite and vast, focused on your position in it." She offered a smile, replacing her saber at her belt.

"Despite their destruction and foolishness, the Jedi did have some good ideas and teachings on the matter."

"Harness the unconscious? I believe I can do that." He nodded curtly, killing his beam too. "I have followed hunches before."

"Stop thinking." Her voice was quiet. "Feel the emotion. Feel the Force. Bend it to your will but never stop feeling it and letting it guide you. The evidence you see with your eyes can deceive you. A cunning warrior will certainly do that." She tilted her head, the lightsaber deactivating.

"The moment will make itself known when to seize it. Only through unconcious thought will that be apparent."

"And your tactics for how to evade the trap?" He was hardly convinced by her belittlement of his intellect, but he let anger fuel his focus and curiosity to know more.

"Information is only as good as application." He stepped closer, adopting a more aggressive stance, as the blade began to spin again, as she held it high above her head. "And application can be quite unexpected. Something a superior intellect like yourself might have a trouble quantifying." She grinned maliciously, as she watched him. She knew the form well, having used it in her youth, mastered it over the course of two wars.

"Your perceived brilliance could hinder you, if you rely on it so much, to calculate what could happen. I've seen arrogant men like you fall so easily into that trap."

"Superior sentience like mine needs no other reference point than itself. I am the sole and final arbiter of my excellence. With the defensive style I have chosen I am already good, but not good enough. It was a choice based on available feedback and risk assessment. I may be forced to deflect blaster fire much more frequently than duel other wielder of this kind of weapon." He paused, shifting to another position of parrying readiness. "Your teaching and clarifications are appreciated. I am distilling the information you are providing so that it can serve me best."

"Showing off." She grinned, before stopping the rapid spinning of the blade. One half of the twin blades hissed off, as she resumed the stance. Watching his form, she nodded. "The idea is to out last your opponent, to keep them from engaging you with little effort to yourself, while they expend as much as possible. It isn't flashy, but it keeps you alive. That's the most important thing in a fight, Sharn." Her words were cold, analytical, judging his stance.

"Tell me, do you believe mastering this will prove something to others, or to the galaxy?"

"Resilience Form." He had mirrored her in assuming it, with aptitude and efficiency that preceded the demonstration. "Good to know." Before she switched to her mowing trick. He didn't try to replicate it, but shifted to more active-defensive stance. "And what this be called?"

"You wish to see my stance, then." She smiled slightly at that. "It has been a long time since anyone has seen that." She took a few steps back, standing straight and tall. "I have always preferred the Resilience Form." In her hands, a disc shaped hilt appeared. The blade ignited, humming in the air, as she assumed the opening stance of Soresu, and then, a wry smile, as she stepped into another, taking the blade hilt in both hands, as the second half of the blade ignited, and it began to rotate around the disc.

"Though times have changed."

"As far as intellectual pursuits go, I can handle everything." He didn't seem abashed by rebuke in the slightest. "Like grasping Mother Inquisitor's Lightsabre Form."

There was a sneer in her face at his comments. "Watch your tongue. There is a thin line from humor and outright rudeness." The sneer softened slightly, as she regarded him. "She is no mere vessel for your genetic beliefs. If this is your idea of romantic flirtation, you've got a lot to learn, though I am sure your brilliant intellect could handle that."

Then a smile.

"To make an elaborate judgment on the latter you would have to take off significantly more, Rhaina, and show me your form." He studied her features appreciatively, taking note of the ridges that turned recessive in Runi. "But it is already clear that much of what I so desire in her she has taken after you. Your genes are worthy of mine, and your blood's strength is worthy of my commitment." He was serious, but there was something playfully daring in his smug expression, as if he was having great fun with his thoughts." Superiority calls for superiority. "

"An odd request. But I suppose allowable if you are as close to my daughter as you say you are." She smiled beneath the mask, before it slid open, revealing the pointed bone structure along her jaw, her chin. The golden highlights of make up and piercings. Her eyes flashed with keen impressment, as her arms folded across her chest.

"Is it everything you hoped for, Sharn? Or only seeing what Runi may have gotten from me?"

"I shall have it, Rhaina." He chuckled, nodding in consent. "In return, I have a reasonble request. Show me your face." He studied the eyes in the vizor.

She laughed, whether or not it was intended as a joke, the Inquisitor took it as such. "Always the way people who suffer no fools think and act. I am not surprised by that response at all. And may I call you Sharn, Csas'har'nuruodo? My Cheuh may not be up to full practice, but that is the common shorthand, is it not? You may call me Rhaina, if that would make you more comfortable, or rather, more amenable to using the common name." The laugh remained in her voice, tilting her head slightly to look up at the man.

"Cutting down insolent whelps will only go so far, and may actually harm any positions you have of reasonable requests in the future. Something to keep in mind. A velvet glove should be used to protect an iron fist, if only to show two sides of strength. A lesson for you, if you'll have it."