The Mandalorian/Echani Jedi could sense what he'd been looking for...a Darksider who was comitting evils. He'd been looking for a way to complete his trials for a very long time now...and it was time to complete them. The Jedi walked to the spot where he'd sensed the distrubance.

((I read your summary, which doesn't include the location.))

He went without his armory, but he wore his armor; a white beskar suit of Mandalorian design, full body, up to and including the T shaped visor. It was Neo-Crusader armor, rather than the commando styled armor of the Galactic Alliance era. It was designed specifically to stop ballistic impacts, slashing, bludgeoning, and piercing attacks, though it could distribute a blaster bolt or two safely, depending on the grade of a weapon. A glancing hit by a lightsaber would be stopped, but any two handed slashes would rend the armor through.

In his hands, he had a pair of lightsabers, and settled into the familiar Kodretan fighting style he'd learned from his Mandalorian fighting instructor. He drew his body out sideways, almost like a fencer, but his feet were both pointed to one side, his knees were slightly bent, and while one saber rested at a 45 degree angle with the tip pointed towards the enemy ((the blade in front of him)) the other arced over his head and was pointed, solidly vertical, at his enemies check. He presented a broad sideways profile but a minimal target for thrusting, and had both weapons oriented toward his enemy.

"Repent or die."

The words were accented with the soft Echani, almost whispered fashion, but also with a resonating Mandalorian emphasis on 'repent' and 'die.'

His voice was cold, but his blood was up. It was time to see the death of a Darksider or the redemption of one.

((IM me at Ihinzial when you're responded.))

(Give me a few moments to reveal my profile. I didn't expect to get into a battle on my first day back.)

(*Review)

From the darkness, a hissing sound emerged, and a single red-bladed lightsaber illuminated the tall figure that stood before the Jedi. He was an intimidating figure, and this effect was magnified more by the slightly crazed look on his face. Yet behind that face was the cool and calculating mind of a killer. His blood-red eyes, if the Jedi were to look carefully, would betray this inner state of mind, for while his stance was deceptively calm, his mind was racing with the anticipation of the fight, and was occupied with measuring up his opponent. A more aggressive Jedi than most, he observed, and one that had two lightsabers to the Sith's one. Yet he always appreciated a challenge, and his supreme self-confidence would not allow him to back down.

At last his bait had been taken, and a Jedi had figured out what was behind all of the recent murders. He had been beginning to think that the Jedi had utterly forsaken this planet, but the one who stood before him gave the lie to that belief. For months he had waited for the Dark Lord Palin to give him the signal to strike, and when his strike force had deserted the mission, he had considered leaving as well. But in the end he had decided that even if Palin were dead or forgotten, he could still strike out at the Jedi Order.

His low voice travelled across the fifty or so meters between him and the Jedi. "Repent or die? What a...compassionate Jedi," Mueron chuckled. "Judging from the tone in your voice, it sounds more likely that you would join me, than the other way around."

The Mandalorian gave a cold chuckle from his helmet, Vocoder adding a harsh electronic cast to it.

"You're looking at a Jedi Weapons Master. Aggression goes with the blades. Are you ready, Sith? I'll give you one chance, one more only; you will stand down, give me your weapon, accept arrest, and accompany me back to Coruscant for reprogramming by the Jedi Council, or I will kill you. You may run, but I will hunt you across the stars if it means I will get to shred your soul from your body with my blades."

He stalked closer, until he was ten feet away, poised and ready, sliding forward, perfectly balanced, on the balls of his feet, his excellent posture and motion revealing his hours and hours spent on a battlefield.

He was ready, for motion, for strike, for block, even to throw up a Force Absorb to negate an expected use of Lightning or Push or Choke, or whatever malignant abuse of the Force came his way.

"You won't get a better chance than this."

"Whatever you call it, the fact remains, 'Jedi,'" Mueron responded, his tone making it clear he thought the use of the word "Jedi" was exaggerated when applied to this individual. "You are much more of a Sith than you think. Proud, aggressive, a love of battle and killing...we are very similar, don't you think?" Mueron's saber moved forward as he spoke, and he now held it in a defensive position in both hands. He sild ever-so-subtly into a ready position, his knees slightly bent and also leaning slightly forward, his weight on the front of his foot. "I have a better idea. You can come with me, and I will show you that the Force is much more than your Jedi overlords make it out to be, that they trivialize the Force by not utilizing it to the full extent of its power. As I said, your current alignment may be Jedi, but being a Sith would suit you so much better."

Mueron wasn't afraid of a fight--as a matter of fact, he relished having one with a skilled Jedi--but this seemed such a prime opportunity for a conversion he felt he couldn't turn it down. After all, how better to gain power within the Sith than by turning a Jedi into his follower? Nevertheless, he remained ready for a sudden move by the Jedi; even if it came to blows, he felt there was a good chance he could turn the Jedi, especially if the other struck first. In the eventuality that such a thing were to occur, Mueron remained alert to any shifts in the other's posture, both visually and through the Force.

(I'm sorry. I have to go, and while I usually don't like getting stuck in Roleplays because I am rarely on, it would be uncharacteristic of me to leave this, so we should probably continue it later. I don't know when I'll be on next.)

The Mandalorian/Echani weaponsmaster shook his head, loving the irony of it all. "You just don't get it, do you? I'm not interested in the Force. I know enough about the Force to defend myself from it; that's all I need to know. For the rest, I have my lightsabers -- and the Jedi lightsabers seem just as good as the Sith ones. And if they weren't, well, I love the challenge. I fight for the Jedi because it's the right thing, and not because I like power. There is an aggression in me, but I don't care, and neither do the Jedi -- as long as I obey the Jedi and run my lightsabers through black robe wearing red saber toting madmen, it's all good. You see, I'm a necessary evil...and you're not. That said, I think it's time for us to be rid of the unnecessary."

The Jedi pounced forward, using speed in a boost -- very powerfully, too fast to maintain for a duration of any sort. It was twice as fast as the power would normally allow someone to go, but for a very short time.

His first saber, the one that had been leveled in front of him, at the opponent, speared forward. He extended, and would spear him if the opponent didn't act fast enough.

His other blade, in the meantime, came forward as well, down in a neck level swipe that would decapitate the enemy if he tried to react just by sidestepping. He also pistoned his feet, putting him in a position paralell to the Sith, should he not be stopped, that would allow him to back off quickly.

HIs hope was that, considering the intense effort he'd put into producing such violent speed so quickly, he would overtake the opponent. Even knowing that his foe had been observing his actions, and if his opponent activated a similar power, he would still be able to take him out with the thrust, despite the defensive actions his foe might take. And even if avoided, reacting to that kind of speed rarely left one well poised and balance for further movement.

As previously stated, Mueron had been ready for a first strike by the Jedi, and the fact that his knees were already bent and his weight was already mostly on the balls of his feet, it would be a simple matter to merely leap backwards, and the Jedi's own maneuvering in order to keep his momentum from carrying him further would stop him short of where Mueron landed. As he had been alert in the Force as well as physically, Mueron would be able to react just before the Jedi started forward, and the Force he channeled to his legs would be enough to propel him a good twenty meters away, safely out of range of the Jedi's lightsabers. All this he did just in time, and the thrust, while coming close, missed him completely, as did the slightly slower slash to the side.

Mueron had to smile at this point. The Jedi had just utilized a huge burst of Force Speed, and had it been any opponent but another Force user, and had he been any less alert, the Jedi would have killed him there. But by his own admission, the Jedi wasn't big on using the Force, which meant that he hadn't practiced as much with it. Which meant that he didn't have the control necessary to keep his stamina high while still using the Force, so that one surge would have taken a lot out of him, and he doubted whether the Jedi would be able to use the Force much more in this battle...and he would be overall fatigued. As he landed, he immediately set himself into a ready stance, his saber in front of him in both hands and his knees slightly bent once more and fired off, "Well, well, what are the Jedi teaching their apprentices these days? Battles are rarely one in one strike, you know."