Outside the Jedi Praxeum: Training Grounds

[Ander Tagira]

::You lot might have another Jedi on the way. West entrance, ground level. I'm closing on the second target, repeat, I am mobile.::

[Dav Man'Sell]

As his feet touched the stone of the roof, his senses became aware of the freshly arrived presence - a cool, focused, and yet ill-meaning presence, which it took Boron precisely no time at all to work out was probably one of their attackers. His Lightsaber, already gripped in his hand, came up, and mid-jump, he turned his head towards the attacker. With that ever-recognised snap-hiss, the metal cylinder in his hand thrust forth it's blazing blue blade. The man a short way distant, encased in an armour not quite like that of the standard Mandalorian design, was just snapping his weapon up into place, and the most-dulled of flashes, noiseless and almost completely suppressed, illuminated the barrel.

The whistling sound that rung past him signified that the shots were close, very very close, and as the barrel flashed, again, and again, and again, Boron knew that a fight was now upon him. Even as the second whistle swept by louder, he was twisting in his body, and sliding within the fabric of the Force, in an effort to steer him away from some frankly truly impressive aiming. As he twisted, and diverted, his Lightsaber also swept up, following instinctive guiding that the Force provided - there was a brilliant, momentary flash on his blade, almost instantaneously in synchronisation with one of the many muzzle flashes of the opponent's weapon, and it told him that one of the incoming rounds had came into contact with the brilliant blue sword, at least partially vaporizing against it.

Boron's other arm, lifting in much the same movement as his Lightsaber, also slipped into action, as his height descended rapidly towards the ground. With a little concentration, and not so much effort made towards precision aiming, the Jedi Knight loosed a hasty, wide-arc Force push, a burst of telekinetic energy, all power and limited in finesse, at his aggressor. There was a tug on his shirt just beneath his arm - a centre-of-mass aimed shot had just clipped him, cutting through his shirt. The sudden burning sensation that came a heartbeat later told him it had caught flesh, and though it was far from debilitating, an impeccably shallow flesh wound from a grazing impact that probably hadn't even managed to arrest or alter the bullet's momentum in the slightest way, the shots were honing in, and the danger becoming more real. All that had progressed in the past, very few, seconds, had brought home to the Jedi just how very, very real the danger actually was, on both an immediate and personal scale, and a wider scale.

Later, perhaps, he'd even get a chance to muse philosophically about it. In this moment, instinct, the will of the Force, and many years of extensive training took over; intellectual contemplation was not something he had time for at this stage.

His mind, racing at speeds unfathomable, as his own flight dipped quicker than the natural arc of his journey should have (thanks, entirely, to the extra nudges he had levelled on himself in the Force), sought the next strategy he would apply. He was a Jedi Guardian, after all - a Knight in the absolute truest sense of the word. He'd trained for battle, for action. He could defeat one little Mandalorian with a primitive slug-thrower.

It was as this thought occurred to him that, the floor mere decimetres from meeting the soles of his boots, that the two grenades - Wait, there're two? - detonated, their proximity sensors obviously possessing greater range than he had anticipated. He had not been unprepared for the possibility that his earlier attempt at distraction had not detonated the grenade, and that his approach to the temple would do so, but the rounds loosed in his direction from the rifle the Mando held had certainly drawn his attention away. It took a beat longer than it ought to have for the Jedi Knight to react, by which time his feet were on the floor, his knees had bent to drop him rapidly down to the ground, and the brilliant white light had exploded into his vision, washing out most of what he could see.

The realisation came, now, that the grenades in question were not fragmentation, concussive, or any similar kind of harm-intending explosive. A blessing, as a grenade that had been meant to cause harm would have done; Boron was grateful for the lack of boiling flesh or shattering bone. But still, he'd lost much of his eyesight - with only the eye furthest from the blasts, protected just slightly by being turned away from the explosions, still retaining any vision at all - which necessitated instantly falling onto the proverbial back-foot, the defensive. He threw himself into a back-roll, and came out of it moving, backing as rapidly into the cover of the Temple's heavy stonework, his every movement, and the defensive sweeps of his Lightsaber - which managed to intercept one... two... three silent and deadly rounds that would have pierced his torso and ended his fight quite painfully - guided only by the Force and his personal memory of the terrain around him. As he turned out of line-of-sight for his attacker, an action which would grant him a few seconds of cover as the attacker closed the distance necessary to get an angle on target again, he blinked heavily, willing the Force to clear his eyesight and return it to him. Already, the varied use of his powers had drained a little of his reserves; no one technique had been particularly taxing, but the combined uses of many minor skills had certainly been so.

A little sight returned to him, slightly quicker than the flash-blindness would have normally, but his vision was still spotted with dancing lights when he determined that he could no longer spare the time to recover. He lifted his blade defensively again, turning his attention back towards the foe he battled, and once more, directed the Force outward at this opponent, seeking to anticipate, seeking to react, seeking to respond to what-ever came next under it's guidance.

[Ander Tagira]

[Dav Man'Sell]

Ordinarily, such a sound mightn't have registered. What came next would have been proceeded by a brief flash of precognitive warning, and then an even briefer flash of fire and pain, and potentially an ended fight, if he hadn't have reacted quick enough. It might well be that this soldier would have ended him in this moment. Or it might well be that he'd have taken a few more injuries, leading the soldier to end him in later moments.

But as that wasn't what happened, there was no point in dwelling in what might have been.

With his other senses thrust out towards the opponent, heightened and supplanted by the Force and a concerted effort to track this armoured foe within that all-encompassing field, the faint 'pop' registered, and considering the annoying reminder in his eyesight that grenades had already covered vast and accurate distances on this battlefield, it took Boron all of no-time-at-all to understand the weapon that had just been used.

And as soon as the pop had sounded, the Jedi sprung into action.

One hand raced from his Lightsaber, as he snapped half-way out from cover; again, a ripple of telekinetic energy burst forth, ensnaring the grenade, arresting it's journey maybe half-way to target, and flinging it just as rapidly back the way it had come. With a grenade now tumbling back towards him, the attacker's subsequent actions would now surely have to change.

The Jedi was in movement again before the Grenade had finished it's journey, having taken a step out from his cover. Facing the foe, he cut out forward and to his left, away from the Temple, before switching direction sharply and darting back in again, weaving to avoid the potential for incoming fire. The Force carried his steps, the final step becoming a leap, taking the Jedi over head height towards the Temple wall. The Jedi's right foot found the surface of the wall, kicking off again, and with the aid of the Force changed the direction of the leap dramatically, driving him towards his opponent. A free hand once more thrust forth at from the Jedi, and again, a telekinetic wall of force slammed out at the armoured aggressor. Unless his foe retreated now, Boron would soon be in melee range.

And in melee range, a Jedi was virtually unmatched.

[Ander Tagira]

::Tag, I'm in trouble. Jedi dodged my rounds, he's closing on me. I'm heading for the hangar bay, blow those charges on my word.::
::I'm ready, just say the word.::

[Dav Man'Sell]

Finally, a reversal of fate. I'm not missing this opportunity.

The Jedi Knight hit the ground, knees bending to absorb the landing. And before he'd even come fully upright, he launched himself into a sprint. Even without calling on the Force, he had the advantage here. Top conditioning. No armour, no heavy equipment to weigh him down. Even with the breathing space the Mandalorian had gained from being flung telekinetically, Boron could close fast.

And he would quite happily embrace the chance to go on the offensive.

The cylinder hit the ground, dropped in the wake of his foe's retreat, and Boron leapt again, flying with all the momentum of his sprint. His eyes, now largely (though not quite completely) recovered from the earlier flash, he squeezed shut. His legs lifted to his chest, as the sound of the grenade going off filled his ears. Instantly, the hiss, and the musky aroma in the air told him that it was a smoke grenade, but his eyes remained closed. He relied on the Force's vision, seeing the fleeing soldier in his mind's eye much as a youngling saw a training remote from beneath the blast-shield of a training helmet.

Fear washed off the soldier. A fear that came in waves. Perhaps later, the Jedi Knight would take the time to muse on this as well, but for now, he still had no time to spare. None the less, the fear was tangible within the Force, a deeply ingrained, personal fear held by this soldier. Boron didn't particularly want to be feared in life, but any foe who feared a Jedi was wise in his eyes. And if Boron caught him? If Boron showed mercy rather than vengeance? Perhaps that could go a step towards ending this war.

But all that could be considered once the Jedi Knight, the Predator at this point in time, caught his prey...

As the Jedi's flight cleared the obfuscating cloud, his feet found the ground yet again. His hand lifted, his eyes opened, and he sighted the Mandalorian. He reached out with the power of the Force, but didn't have the focus in that moment for a precision action - so in place of a delicate act, he went for stopping power, and using the Force, sought to grapple the soldier, and to pull him rapidly back in a telekinetic grip. Whatever results the Force Pull tended, he drove his legs a little harder, closing the distance just that little quicker.