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Vera was stirring from her dream when she smelled her death. The curl of combustion and ozone crinkled her nostrils and flooded her body with paralyzing adrenaline. Arcing red light scythed down towards where she lay in her bed, an all-consuming beam of incineration. Vera moved faster than thought.
She kicked herself out of bed, flinging her blankets towards her shadowy attacker. A red lightsaber slashed through her bed, pillow and mattress and frame. Vera’s lightsaber hilt was already called to her hand as she flung herself backwards through her window. Her opponent followed and they fell, haloed in shards of moonlight, red blades clashing and snaking along each other’s length, flashing like tongues of a serpent. Vera crashed into the courtyard, shattering the flagstones into a dark lattice. Vera’s opponent alighted on a bench, the flow of her black cloak the only betrayal of gravity’s hold on her, her red blade held out in her left hand. For a small eternity there was nothing, only Vera’s ragged breathing and the low hum of energy blades. Then her attacker was on her, and Vera was fighting for her life.
Parry, sidestep, counterstroke. Block and strike in the same movement. Breathe. Duck. Block. Survive. Vera was forced to give ground to her opponent’s ferocity, launching herself into a back handspring, her crimson blade lashing out in a crescent to cover her retreat. Her assailant closed the distance in a single step, forcing Vera’s blade into a high bind and driving a kick into her midsection. Vera folded in half around the kick and flew. Absorb. Roll with it. She spun back to her feet and batted a thrust away from her eyes. The follow-up came faster than Vera’s eyes could see, stripping her blade from her hand. The scarlet blade whipped around towards her face. She closed her eyes.
“Enough!” Vera roared, lashing out with the dark rage within her. Her blast stripped trees from the earth, shattered glass, hurled the cloaked figure away from her in a wave of blue lightning and rippling wind. Her opponent landed a good twenty meters away, her boots skidding slightly on the stone before coming to a halt. Vera knelt in the epicenter of the destroyed courtyard, breathing heavily. She bowed her head.
“Enough, indeed. I am proud of you,” her master said. Vera jerked her head up, her horns thrumming with surprise. Ashamed pheromones flooded from Vera’s horns, and though her master’s Mirilian senses could never have deciphered them, her mastery of the Force meant that Vera’s emotions could seldom escape her notice.
“But, I failed, Master. I should have been prepared for your test,” Vera said. Her master shook her head, dislodging her hood as she strode forward. The moonlight struck her master’s green skin and sparked on her black diamond tattoos, casting her sharp features in a noble light. Darth Nyx, the true Dark Lord of the Sith.
“It is precisely how you performed when unprepared that impressed me, my dear,” Nyx said. Vera nodded, a blush suffusing her purple cheeks, and stood. Nyx called Vera’s saber to her hand and offered it to her apprentice as she continued, “there will always be room for improvement - always your goal is ascension. Your lightsaber skills could use refinement, it is true, but you survived, and while your improvisation wasn’t the most...elegant, it was certainly effective,” Nyx said.
Vera bowed and took the offered lightsaber, its ivory hilt glinting in her hands.
“Thank you, Master,” she said. As the fight drained out of her she could feel her body crying out for sleep, but she paused. “Is there anything else you require, Master?” Vera asked.
“Yes,” Nyx said. “Pack your bags. We’re leaving. Tonight.”
“Yes, Master,” Vera said, forcing down her rising fatigue. Perhaps her soft bed in their compound here had taken some of her edge; there had been a time when stone had been her only pillow, when rest was taken in small bursts of half-sleep while on the run. She started towards the house to retrieve her few belongings.
“Oh, and Vera?” Nyx said. Vera stopped at the edge of shadow.
“Yes, Master?”
“The disarming strike - you roll with the blade and circle back towards my heart, while keeping my blade out of line from yours. Do practice for next time.”
“Yes, Master,” Vera said. She chuckled under her breath as she ran back inside. Life under her Master was many things, but it was never boring, and though it might seem otherwise, it was never unfair.