Ventress glanced at her prey. Meanwhile, the Jedi turned to face her. From beneath his cloak, she caught a glimpse of... a helmet? Armor? Interesting.
"Asajj Ventress, I presume?" the Jedi began in a calm voice.
"How do you know my name?" she asked, surprised.
The Jedi raised his hands theatrically.
"A country must know its heroes!"
"What do you mean?" The woman frowned, puzzled by the Jedi's manner of speech.
"Just kidding... I'm not going to talk to you about the weather, am I?"
"And who might you be, to speak with such courage?"
"I am Mikore Vikt. Pleased to meet you."
"Surrender, Jedi, and you will die... quickly."
"You might as well suggest that I join the Dark Side!" the man said, stamping his foot in mock offense.
Ventress let out a sharp laugh. "Ha-ha-ha! I like you. So—will you join us?"
"I won't argue, the offer is hutt tempting," he admitted with a shrug. "But my answer is no. Red swords are fine, but I'm not a fan of facial tattoos."
"You... Jedi scum!" Ventress hissed, spinning her lightsabers and readying herself for battle.
"Well, we've had our talk," came a sigh muffled by his helmet.
The Jedi dropped his cloak, revealing the armor beneath, and ignited his lightsaber. The blade pointed vertically upward, raised above his head. Ventress immediately recognized the stance — Shii-Cho. Long ago, her first mentor had taught her that style.
Now, Jar'Kai was her essence. Ventress leapt, swinging her twin blades for a double strike.
The Jedi stepped forward, shifting his swordsharply to a horizontal position, and the blades collided with such force that both felt the shock. Landing on the stone floor of the corridor, Ventress lunged forward again, closing the distance.
Vikt lifted his head just in time to see the sole of an elegant boot. The Dathomiri stamped her heel against his helmet. The Jedi began to fall on his back, but managed to group himself in midair, land without losing his balance, and stand firmly on his feet again.
Their blades clashed again, sparks flying. Ventress pressed her attack with a relentless series of feints, lightning-fast lunges, and cuts, the tips of her sabers drawing figure eights dangerously close to the Jedi's armor.
Then one of her blows struck true—but was suddenly stopped by the shimmer of a deflector shield.
A deflector shield? Asajj growled, springing back and tearing off the walls of the interior with the Force. Debris hurtled toward the Jedi. The first panel flew wide, the second wooden beam swept his legs out from under him, and the third piece splintered against his shoulder, knocking him down.
Ventress charged, but Vikt casually flicked his hand, hurling her backward with a telekinetic shove. Before she could land, she had to twist aside as the same debris came flying back at her. They were slower now, easier to dodge—yet one piece struck home, smashing the hilt from her fingers and sending it skidding across the floor toward the Jedi.
The enraged woman lunged again. Vikt parried the Dathomiri's furious strikes, straining visibly but somehow managing to hold her off.
"Ha," Ventress laughed shortly, licking her lips in a feral smile. "This is going to be more interesting than I expected."
She stepped out of the roll, standing on her feet in front of the Jedi, who immediately rushed to attack.
"What do you think I've been doing all these years in the Temple? Playing dejarik?" he retorted. "They taught me a few basic combat skills."
Her curved hilt whistled through the air as it flew back into her hand. Ventress lunged, delivering wide, vicious cuts.
"My powers are great, you insignificant being—"
"I'm very happy for you. No, really, I am…"
Vikt sidestepped deftly, aiming a low strike at her legs—a textbook Cho mok—but Ventress blocked it cleanly. He barely raised his blade in time to meet her next strike at his head. Still, he couldn't fully deflect it: the red blade sliced a deep gash into his helmet.
Vikt drew back to swing at the red sword in a leap a moment later, putting all his strength into the blow, but the girl held her ground.
"What a pitiful sight," she hissed.
Oh, he was energetic, certainly—but his armor, already scarred by her sabers, now hindered more than it protected. Still, Ventress had to admit—the Jedi was good. He lacked experience fighting Force users of his caliber, but he learned fast. It wouldn't save him, though. The Dark Side coursed through her veins, filling her muscles with strength, sharpening her reflexes.
She had planned for the Jedi's death to be swift. This drawn-out duel was becoming tedious... and tiring. The Dark Side was powerful—but not infinite.
From somewhere distant came the rumble of battle and even muffled explosions.
"Your charges have walked into a trap," Ventress declared coldly.
"I have a couple of surprises in store for that," the Jedi replied evenly, parrying another head strike and immediately countering with a thrust. Ventress twisted aside with playful ease and slashed back.
Vikt blocked the blow to his stomach from the bottom up, and they collided chest to chest; their blazing blades hung suspended, a mere palm's width apart.
"Your movements are too slow, Jedi. Too predictable."
In response to this taunt, the Jedi tilted his head slightly.
"You think so?"
Then, unexpectedly, he shifted forms—to Soresu.
Only a desperate leap saved Ventress from a smoking hole in her chest; the blue blade scorched a strip down her tunic.
"What?!"
She leapt away from the Jedi, landing on the floor, stepping out of the fight for a moment. The strike had come far too close. But before her boots touched the floor, Vikt was already there, his saber spinning in a flawless defensive arc. It moved so fast that Ventress hesitated to attack—but that didn't stop her from sending him into a long flight with a Force push.
Whoa. That wasn't part of the plan, Ventress muttered, fury rising.
She dashed forward, her next blow so powerful it drove the Jedi to his knees—yet a blue blade lashed toward her feet. With a desperate spinning parry and a kick to his chest mid-turn, Asajj bought herself enough space to leap away again. But Vikt was already closing the gap.
She blocked his first strike instinctively; the second twisted her wrist; the third—an upward flash of blue—forced her saber down so far it singed her own shoulder. The Dathomiri had to retreat.
Ventress paled. How could this be happening?
The Jedi advanced, unnaturally unwavering in his armor stained with her saber, moving like a destroyer droid with a lightsaber—every step a strike, every strike a step. Ventress retreated as fast as she could, but Vikt kept up. The blue blade was everywhere—flashing, spinning, weaving a wall of light until the room itself blurred into a storm of electric blue.
Her breathing became shallow and heavy. She didn't try to block the Jedi's blows anymore, only parry them to the side. And only then did Ventress realize she'd been led like a fool. All of the Jedi's actions were just desperate attempts, on the edge of his abilities. In fact, he was now in over his head.
The Jedi used Shii-Cho intertwining it with Soresu in protective stances. Ventress's Jar'Kai simply lacked the kinetic power to counter his two-handed grip. The glittering blue lightsaber whirled and hissed, and each chopping blow was like the unstoppable fall of a meteor. Ventress had to use the Force reserves available to her wastefully just to meet these attacks without being chopped to pieces, but her strength was clearly lacking.
Time to change tactics.
Ventress crouched and kick his leg. Soresu's weakness was mobility, due to the effort put into swordsmanship. Her blow was strong enough to knock Vikt off balance, giving Ventress the opportunity to move into decisive action.
She decided that the comedy was over. It was time to kill.
Ventress struck with a flurry of lightning-fast lunges at his legs, blending Jar'Kai with Makashi—form Count Dooku himself had taught her—trying to force an opening, to slice him from his back up through his shoulder blades… But Vikt deflected the blows without shifting his feet or losing his perfect balance. His saber barely moved more than an inch where needed, deflecting all her lunges.
Some strikes landed, yet the cursed armor absorbed or deflected them, leaving only dents and scorch marks. But in the Force she could already sense that the Jedi was on his last breath, his strength coming to an end. And when Ventress sensed that the Jedi was about to begin to retreat, she triumphed.
But the Jedi suddenly switched to a one-handed grip, freeing his other hand. He drew back one of her swords with a powerful thrust and drew dangerously close, stepping forward. Ventress swung her remaining blade in triumph—only for it to bounce harmlessly off his vambrace.
Then the blue blade twisted in an impossible motion, and the superheated tip grazed her cheek.
The wave of pain and fury that swept over the Dathomiri resulted in a monstrous Force push that hurled the Jedi back dozens of meters.