TRAINING: Saris vs Wyvern

The opposing entrance slid open with the grinding of rusty metal and Saris was forced out by a pair of gamorrean guards, their shove pushing him faster than his malnourished legs could carry him as he stumbled to land belly first in the dirt. A dull thunk followed his entrance, emanating from just in front of his head, and he reached up a hand to grab the weapon they had tossed out for him. It had become a joke to them, that weapon. It was the only one he'd had on him when he was captured, and now they made him use it in every fight they put him in. It was a training saber that he had been given by his first master, and whoever his captor was seemed to enjoy stacking the odds against him by always giving him that same non-lethal weapon. It would knock an opponent unconscious if it struck their head or spine, but aside from that the worst it could do was burn. What the little frakker doesn't know though, is that I figured out how to deactivate the safety. He hadn't had occasion to do so yet, but when he did the weapon would become every bit as deadly as its custom-built counterparts.

Pushing himself off the ground, he rose to his feet and eyed his opponent. He appeared to be young, and based on the lightsaber he was probably also a jedi student. That or a sith student, though he didn't have the usual angry look about him that most of those had. He was also dressed more completely, having a vest, some semblance of pants, and worn foot wrappings where Saris had only the leggings. He had never been overly fond of clothing, and usually only wore more than simple leggings for the benefit of those around him. He'd learned that most sentients preferred the people around them to be almost entirely covered by clothing when in public, and had adapted accordingly; though he still disliked the way shirts restricted his movement and shoes cut him off from the ground beneath his feet.

He squinted through the glare of the sun as he approached his opponent, stopping in front of him. If he'd reached out his left arm and ignited the lightsaber he held, the tip of the blade would have fallen just short of the man's forehead. He didn't though, and simply looked the other man in the eye. Both of them knew only one would be leaving this place.

"I'd apologize for this, but I doubt it would make you feel any better."

And if he was going to be honest, he was actually looking forward to it.

A soresu stance. Probably a defensive fighter then. That or a clever one. Going on the defense and sizing me up before exploiting weaknesses. Two can play that game. Igniting his own blue blade, though all lightsabers appeared more silver than any other color to him, he stepped back with his right foot, angling his body to provide a smaller target. He held his saber in a one-handed makashi grip, the hilt at waist height and the blade angled toward the ground, the tip pointing directly at his opponent's leading foot.

Then he lunged, sakiyan muscles propelling him forward faster than any human could manage as he drove the tip of the saber at his opponent's leading knee. The blow might not have been able to cut, but his opponent did not know that and if it did land, it would still burn the kneecap and render the joint much less functional; even if the sheer force of the jab did not hyper-extend it. He did not stop there however, and in true makashi form his next strike was a lightning quick slash at the other man's left shoulder, moving from Saris' right to left. Both strikes would possess nearly double the force that would be expected in such rapid maneuvers, owing to the alien's enhanced musculature and increased strength over human practitioners.

As expected, the jab was deflected to the other man's left, which only placed Saris' blade in the perfect position to continue up and through his next strike, though that too was predictably avoided. He can read an opponent, so he's not new to physical combat like most young jedi seem to be. As his blade passed over Wyvern's head, he pulled his left arm back slightly and immediately aimed the tip of his weapon at the center of the other man's face, then drove it forward again in a rapid jab. If he wants to stick to Soresu, fine by me, but he doesn't seem to be the stupid type. It was a well known fact that the precision and speed of Makashi could very easily be utilized to break through the defense of Soresu, so unless his opponent actually WAS the stupid type, or simply far less trained than he seemed, he would know it would be suicide to maintain his defense. There would be a change coming, and the Sakiyan would be ready for it. To that end, he made a mental note of the hand in the dirt, though most jedi would not recognize the opportunity it presented and only time would tell if his opponent was the adaptable sort of fighter.

Saris actually had, in point of fact, already turned to face Wyvern side-on (as mentioned previously) and as the sabers clashed and the other man began to push Saris' blade further to his left (wyvern's right), the Sakiyan drew back his outstretched arm and rotated his wrist down and in, sweeping the tip of his blade beneath the handle of Wyvern's saber and back up to aim directly at his sternum as he charged forward. He drove the blade forward again in a stab, starting mere inches from the rushing man's chest, and with the momentum his opponent's blade already possessed traveling away from the new attack, it was Saris' hope that he would be unable to maintain a tenable defense. These were the gaps and mistakes that the speed and precision of Makashi were so perfectly suited to exploiting, and his opponent had made a glaring one in assuming that he would use the power of his arm to fight the deflection rather than the speed of his wrist to circumvent it.