Public For Want of a Yen

[Lyanna Starborn]

Lyanna’s smile sharpened into something predatory as she watched him move — good, she thought. Very good.

The instant she felt the pull of the Force gathering behind her, she pivoted on the ball of her foot, one elegant, economical motion. The debris hurled toward her was met not with brute resistance, but with a flick of her fingers and a ripple in the Force — a short, contained burst that sent the equipment scattering harmlessly around her in a controlled arc. Not destroyed — redirected.

His lightning was a different matter.

As he dashed forward in a blur, Lyanna brought her saber up in a one-handed guard, while her free hand snapped out, palm open. She drank in his rage-charged lightning, absorbing it into the wellspring of power she carried within her. Her expression never wavered: cold, composed, hungry.

“Better,” she intoned, her saber intercepting his with a searing clash of violet and crimson light, sparks cascading between them.

She pressed against him with measured strength, testing, probing, her stance rooted like the core of a star. Every movement precise — not an ounce of wasted energy.

“You have learned to think beyond the blade,” she said as their sabers locked, her voice low and calm amid the hiss of clashing plasma. “But you still telegraph too much.”

Without warning, she shifted her weight — a sudden, explosive movement — and drove her knee toward his ribs, seeking to unbalance him while their weapons were bound. In the same breath, she used the Force to push against the scattered debris still in the air, sending it flying again — not at him, but toward the space around him, limiting his avenues of escape.

“Adapt!” she barked, her silver eyes flashing.

Not a command of anger — but a command of expectation.

He had come far.

Now she would see if he could ascend even higher.

Tag; @Muto Yen

 

[Muto Yen]

When they finally collide, and she looks into his eyes after she successfully deflect or counters, both his lightning, and the debris that he sent toward her, he looks nonplussed. Almost unimpressed. It would not necessarily be enough to make her grip falter, she could feel that there was considerable weight in his strike when they clashed.

But as they stand face-to-face, she can see it in him too: a hunger much like her own. He remained in their lock.

Come now, there’s only one way you can try to attack me up close with your hands occupied!

Then the moment came with a knee aimed for his gut.

Gotcha!

He rocketed his knee upward too, meeting it midair. At the same time, he reared his head back as if telegraphing a headbutt. However, what would come out is a concussive blast of sound and force as erupted with a force scream to knock her off balance.

Hoping to capitalize, he channels his lightning into his saber and slashes toward her, as his blade becomes a ginormous column of surging lightning.

Tag: @Lyanna Starborn

 

[Lyanna Starborn]

The moment their knees collided, Lyanna’s eyes narrowed slightly — an invisible note of approval passing between them in the clash. His counter was sharp, reactive, almost instinctive. She had trained that reflex into him over these long years, honed it through fire and relentless expectation.

But the real surprise came next.

As he reared back, she braced for a physical strike, calculating the counter —

— only for the Force scream to erupt directly into her senses.

The blast hit like a hammer. She slid back half a step, boots skimming the polished floor as the sheer kinetic force howled between them, rattling the very air. Her cloak whipped around her ankles from the aftershock.

He learns quickly.

Yet as the massive, lightning-charged column of his saber came crashing down toward her, Lyanna’s instincts — older, deeper, deadlier — seized the moment.

Rather than retreat, she advanced, stepping into the arc of his attack.

Her saber flicked off with a sharp hiss — too slow to parry conventionally — and her free hand snapped upward, fingers splayed wide. She caught the lightning with her bare hand, the energy crackling and screaming between her fingers. It scorched the air with the scent of ozone and burning metal — and yet, she held it.

Held it, as if it were nothing but water slipping through her fingers.

Held it, and fed on it.

Her lips twisted into a faint, knowing smirk.

“You dare pit lightning against me?” she purred, her voice carrying over the howling energies. “Good.”

With a crushing surge of the Force, she wrenched the lightning from his blade, siphoning it into herself with frightening ease — and then lashed it back at him, not as a chaotic blast, but as a series of jagged, whip-like strikes of dark energy, precise and punishing.

One snap to test his guard.

Another to force him backward.

A third — and fourth — to bind his momentum, herd him where she wanted him.

There, in her silver gaze, as the room thundered with their power, he could see the truth:

She had no interest in defeating him.

Only in forging him, harder and sharper with every breath.

“Again!” she commanded, her voice a whip of its own.

“Show me your will!”

Tag; @Muto Yen

 

[Muto Yen]

He grimaced with frustration upon seeing her halt his slash and drain the lightning that once adorned his saber, gritting his teeth.

To her query, he remains silent, opting to respond to her first lightning lash with a parry.

He backsteps as another zap aims to strike his left foot.

By the third, he understands what she is doing: she is attempting to corral him.

So, rather than dodge the fourth bolt, he catches it with a slash of his indigo blade; then uses the floating debris she conveniently left behind him to begin corraling her. The smaller ones aimed for specific body parts - her hand, knee, foot, or head - dashed toward her like a swarm of blaster fire. The larger objects, however, were launched at her body, meant to herd her into the nearby wall.

All the while, he walked toward her with purpose: his brow furrowed, his saber eager, and his feet seeming to thunder against the ground as the force began to swirl around him...

Tag: @Lyanna Starborn

 

[Lyanna Starborn]

He learns. Faster than most.

Lyanna felt it as surely as she saw it — the shift in his energy, the mounting pressure of his will pressing outward through the Force. He parried her fourth bolt without hesitation, redirected her tactic with intention. The way he moved, the way he began to stalk forward — it reminded her of the first time he truly believed he could match her.

Now he intended to.

The smaller debris came first, launched with precision and intent. One aimed for her saber hand — she turned her wrist slightly, letting her blade catch and deflect it with a shriek of protesting metal. Another angled for her knee — she pivoted gracefully, Echani footwork honed to perfection. A third whistled toward her head. Without flinching, she let it pass an inch from her temple, silver-white hair shifting in its wake.

Good. You’re watching me. Reading me. Not just reacting — calculating.

Then came the larger debris, thundering through the air to pen her in against the wall. She stood her ground until the last possible second. When the largest piece came within a meter, her free hand snapped up, fingers splayed, and she pushed.

The Force surged outward like a pressure wave, precise and controlled — not an explosion, but a sweep that knocked the larger projectiles aside or shattered them entirely, raining splinters of duracrete across the floor.

Still, he advanced.

His indigo blade burned bright in both hands. Each step fell heavier than the last, like drumbeats in the Force. His brow was furrowed, his eyes locked on her, and the air around him bristled with power. He wasn’t posturing. He wasn’t desperate.

He was becoming.

Lyanna shifted her stance — low, balanced, her knees bent in the flowing guard of her people. Her saber hummed steady at her side, her other hand relaxed behind her. She studied him not just with her eyes, but through the dance of intent that the Echani knew better than any.

“You’re improving,” she said, calm and clear. “But you’re still thinking like a duelist.”

Without breaking eye contact, she stepped forward — not with the speed of a blur, but the sudden precision of a master. Her footfalls made no sound. One step, two — and she was behind him, not from vanishing, but from movement honed by years of discipline. Her saber rose in a high arc, its plasma tip just behind his neck — humming there, not striking.

“I taught you to be a warrior.”

He’d feel it. The lesson. The line she dared him to cross.

Her voice, when she spoke again, was low, close, and brimming with purpose.

“Now turn… and prove it.”

Tag; @Muto Yen

 

[Muto Yen]

He stood frozen for a beat. Then two. Then three.

In that moment, the force that seemed to swirl around him weakened; devolving from a mighty gust to a mere zephyr.

He then dropped both hands to his sides, deactivated his lightsaber, and twirled it around in his hand.

Was he…admitting defeat? Pathetic, this is unbecoming of a-!

What happened next would happen at terrifying speed, as the force suddenly seemed to surge back to life within him.

With the emitter of his lightsaber pointing directly up at the tip of her crimson blade, it rockets out, and crashes into it.

Simultaneously, his other hand shot open and then closed in a fist faster than the blink of an eye. The floor beneath Lyanna would crumple to his might, making an indent right beneath her.

It was then that the next phase of his counterattack began.

Upon feeling the contact of their blades he began to spin around. This was in part to use the momentum to knock the blade away at the point of weakest leverage: the tip. The other part was to perform a leg sweep, taking advantage of the sudden change in terrain beneath her footing.

As his spin completes, he would bring his indigo saber around in an arc, and stab downward, aiming a strike directly at her heart as if to skewer her. As he did, she could see his face: his teeth bared for a moment before an unholy roar that came from both him and the tempestuous storm of the force surrounding him escaped as he swung around with power.

For a moment, his eyes seemed to flicker to an amber color, but it was too fast to truly confirm.

Tag: @Lyanna Starborn

 

[Lyanna Starborn]

Lyanna felt the shift in the Force before her eyes could confirm it — a sudden drop, then a quiet stillness. Her brow knit slightly. Submission?

No… not from him.

Then, it surged. Like a dam breaking.

In one breath, his saber snapped back to life — the emitter aligned perfectly with the tip of her own blade. In the next, their blades clashed, not with the elegance of trained duelists, but the raw violence of opposing storms.

He’s masking his intent now. She realized it too late.

Her heel shifted to compensate — a misstep.

The floor beneath her collapsed in an instant, her boots dropping a few centimeters into the crushed duracrete. Her eyes flashed as she braced, already adjusting her balance, even as his body turned, his saber swinging wide in a whirling arc.

Smart. Using the terrain against her. She would’ve been proud — if he weren’t trying to kill her.

The leg sweep came, and she moved — but not back. Her instincts as an Echani warrior demanded more.

Instead, she folded into the strike, collapsing her body low with a turn of her own, her saber spinning defensively to catch the edge of his blade. Sparks screamed into the air where metal hilt met plasma, and still, he pressed in. That stab—direct, lethal, brilliantly timed—came at her chest like a bolt of lightning.

But Lyanna had seen too much, survived too much, to fall to momentum alone.

Her body turned with his, gliding over the ruined flooring like water down a blade. Her saber, still alive with crimson fire, reoriented in a split-second clash of motion. His downward thrust met the flat of her weapon — not deflected, but absorbed, halted mid-air with the full strength of her arms and a blast of Force resistance pulsing between their blades.

Then she saw it.

That flicker.

Amber.

Just for an instant.

She felt it more than saw it. The way the Force warped around his roar, how it no longer simply obeyed his will but resonated with his fury.

Her voice was like ice: cool, low, cutting through the chaos.

“Control it. Or it will consume you.”

With that, she snapped her leg up, aiming a sharp knee into his gut while simultaneously sending a force pulse into his blade-hand — not enough to crush, but enough to destabilize his grip.

If he fell back, he would learn.

If he didn’t — he would burn.

Either way, Lyanna’s stance remained solid, unmoved despite the wreckage around them, her silver eyes locked on his.

“Again.”

Tag; @Muto Yen

 

[Muto Yen]

He cursed upon seeing his strike fail, making his face even more stern than it was. However, his eyes were still their normal hue for now.

However, that hardly mattered as her knee collided into his gut, causing him to stumble back, as his saber was forced out of his hand.

"I know!"

He growled out, deciding not to press forward but to propel himself backward toward the wall with a force jump. Simultaneously, he wrenched his saber back into his grip with force with one hand, using his other hand to send a force blast - his upgraded version of a force push - as a concussive wave of force would beat against his master while he bellowed. Regardless of whether she could weather it, the wall of equipment floating nearby would not, as it was blasted away with great speed.

He would land after a flip from his fade-away counterattack, sliding to a halt, his blade gripped firmly with both hands. He would then launch back in, blade ready for a counter.

The force seemed to stir around him even more now...

Tag: @Lyanna Starborn

 

[Lyanna Starborn]

The bellow was raw. Fierce. She felt it echo in the Force like a warhorn sounding across a battlefield.

Lyanna didn’t move as the wave of kinetic energy surged toward her, even as it crushed the levitating equipment beside her into the far wall.

Her feet shifted slightly. One behind the other. Shoulders squared. Her grip reversed.

Crash.

The concussive blast met her head-on. Dust whipped around her. Her robes snapped and twisted violently in the shockwave. Her hair, long and silver, broke free of its braid — but she did not move. Not even an inch.

The Force flowed into her now, not as a weapon, but as a root. It anchored her. Grounded her. Mastered her.

And when the dust cleared—

She stood exactly as she had. Blade drawn. Eyes hard. Not angry. Not impressed. Just present.

She watched him flip through the air with that same relentless energy, that will. She saw the power pooling around him. The need to win. And deeper still — the fear that he might lose himself in the attempt.

Good.

She stepped forward at the moment he landed. A single, measured step.

Test him.

His blade came in fast — both hands, full commitment. A brute-force swing.

But Lyanna didn’t block.

Instead, she stepped inside the swing’s arc with Echanic precision. Her saber dropped low and brushed along the bottom of his blade, just enough to tilt it off-line.

Her free hand snapped up, fingers splayed. She didn’t strike. She caught his face.

Palm to cheek.

Not to injure — but to halt.

Like a mother stilling a child mid-tantrum.

The energy between them crackled, still fresh from his charge. But her hand did not waver.

“You’re faster.”

Her voice was even. Quiet. “Stronger.”

A pause.

“But until your will becomes your weapon, not your burden, you will never defeat me.”

She pushed him gently back with the Force, just enough space for breath. Just enough space to think.

Then —

“Again.”

Her saber snapped back into ready position.

Still. Calm. Waiting.

She would not yield. Not until he earned it.

Tag; @Muto Yen

 

[Muto Yen]

Much did his surprise, rather than swinging her blade like he was preparing for, she caught him by the face. This caused his eyes to widen as he looked at her. They grew wider still when she was giving him genuine praise. Then he was forced back, but did not carry a look of fury; instead, he looked pensive. He then took a Djem So ready stance, before he smiles.

“What can I say? I plan to surpass you one day. And I think you have considered that too…”

This time the force around him calms. Rather than the erratic storm that was gathering, it is now more like a flowing river rushing into him. He breathed deeply, and this time had a slow approach, walking forward until their lightsabers kissed next to each other.

“Come: let’s not keep my victory waiting.”

His voice does not carry arrogance, but eagerness and resolve. Rather than striking out, he waits. His brown eyes looking a bit…bluer at times? Either way, he would await her next strike patiently.

 

[Lyanna Starborn]

Her saber hummed steady, the blade held upright in a high guard — but her posture shifted subtly. Relaxed. Not open, but… accepting. Observant.

The boy who once wielded the Force like a cudgel now shaped it like a current. It flowed through him. With him. A welcome evolution. A necessary one.

And in the silence between them, she felt it: the breath between student and master, not as predator and prey — but as peers in waiting.

She moved.

One step. Then two.

Her blade arced from on high, deliberate and poised. Not to overpower him. Not to press him. But to ask: are you ready to lead?

Their blades clashed — once, twice — the impact light, controlled, like dancers finding rhythm. She drove forward on the third, a feint toward his right shoulder, only to pivot low at the last second and aim a swift cut for his legs. Testing his reaction. Testing his discipline.

He passed.

She felt his parry come not from instinct, but from choice. From clarity.

Good.

She surged forward once more, sweeping high. He caught the blow cleanly — and in the crossing of sabers, their eyes met. That same eager resolve in his gaze. But no longer reckless.

No longer desperate.

Just ready.

She held the clash a moment longer… then slowly, she stepped back.

Her saber deactivated with a soft hiss.

“That’s enough.”

A pause.

Then: “You’ve learned.”

Her tone carried no fanfare, no exaggerated warmth — but the respect in it was unmistakable.

She clipped her saber back to her belt and walked past him, a gentle breeze trailing behind her as if the Force itself sighed in approval.

“If your next lesson goes as well,” she said over her shoulder, “you might just make me proud.”

A rare glint of mischief touched her voice. Just a flicker.

And for once — just once — Lyanna didn’t hide the smile that followed.

Tag; @Muto Yen