Gagnante wasn't surprised. She rarely was. Ever since she was a child raised in the highly-congested and crime-ridden slums of Coruscant, she had learned to trust no one and watch everyone. The Sith remnants had taken her in, trained her, made her strong. That was what pain did to you, and anger. You always came out ahead in the end.
Disdaining such acrobatic tricks as the midair flip attacks the Jedi used, the young Sith Initiate parried.
You reek of the stench of Korriban... That she did. She hadn't had a proper wash in seven days--six of which had been spent on that Force-forsaken planet, standing at attention in the desert sun for hours, allowing herself no sign of weakness or fatigue. That was how the last five initiates in her squadron had met their ends. They deserved it. So her instructors said.
Gagnante performed a sudden volte-face, with her two vibroblades clanging up against the hilt of the Cathar's lightsaber. She cut in a downward stroke, lacerating Juhani on the arm, but it was a light flesh wound only.
She then lurched forward and gave a mighty kick, sending Juhani backward.
I won't lose. You don't know what kind of a Sith you're gambling with.
Last edited by Tysyacha; 06-11-2010 at 11:18 PM.