Orik Bendan

((Ignore this post)) Orik nodded.

Orik turned, the Kel Dor at last smilling underneath the oxygen mask which was firmly implanted on his face. The man had seen much battle, and had faced even the pains of death at the hands of a bounty hunter. However, in one fell swoop all failures faded to oblivion as the bounty hunter had one extremely successful mission. "Kneel." Orik took his sword, stained with the flesh of many, and laid its crimson flat upon the shoulders of the man. "Rise, Darth Asperous."

((Late at night, excuse the crappy post)) Orik flipped upward from the ground after the maneuver. It was evident that the man had even more tricks up his sleeve than could be expected, especially for one of his relative freshness. No doubt this man could take and inflict pain, the marks of his comfort with his weapon showing through his style. This act alone proved he could handle himself in a battle, for not many could even touch a sith lord such as himself”¦ he certainly couldn't touch a jedi knight the first time he met one. No”¦ that was different”¦ The Kel Dor walked over to the man in a non-combative style, sheathing his weapons to free up his hands for the clapping he was displaying. Such applause was most likely unexpected, yet it was deserved by the man who had just surmounted all expectation and proven himself to Orik. ”

The exuberant air flew about the two with each of the sleek movements executed forcing waves to slap against their skin, fanning their heated flesh as it began to escalate into a more difficult workout each second. There was a balance found in the man's form, poised as an elegant coinsure of warfare and yet violent as a thrashing beast. Past experience with the blade was evident in the man's style, falling into Makashi as though it were engrained into his movement patterns from birth”¦ it seemed to feel natural to the apprentice as all things meant to be should. With the experimental maneuver executed by the human, clapping his heels against the walls and then propelling himself in a rapid maneuver, Orik saw the inventive creativity which separated the worthy from the damned. Though the sith lord's golden blade crossed over in a quick burst of speed to meet the saber and deflect it, the only reason he was able to do such was his own mastery in the art of battle combined with the unrefined posture of the one he sought to teach. Bringing the blades to a dead lock, pitting strength against strength, the Kel Dor began to shed a bit of insight into what was lacking. ”

Orik observed the human with his assiduous eyes eternally masked by the covering of his goggles, yet somehow the fires of his crimson spheres penetrated the physical obstruction preventing their unaltered gaze and further more bore themselves into the young man. There was an alteration”¦ a mark upon this being's essence as though a scar cascaded down his soul, festering and seething with power and a craving for some form of pleasure”¦ perhaps reminiscent of what the Kel Dor had experienced in the presence of a sith seductress so long ago in the Last Call”¦ Hmm”¦ yes”¦ this one is worthy. Orik's hand fell to his saber hilt at the ending of the man's abrupt comments, a thickening aura of insidious nature swirling around him to further confirm the notion of his power and dominion over the dark side. Lately, through the man's attunement to the harsh cold of Selvaris, not physically yet more of a wound left by the flame of battle, the dark side seemed abnormally near to him”¦ closer”¦ as if the two were one entity acting fully in unison of an accord never before demonstrated. When his lips spoke, the voice of darkness bled from his tongue. When he acted with his weapons, a sinister grip held tight to his motions and controlled his every move. Now, as he cast judgment upon this individual, it became evident that it wasn't Lord Bendan who made the decision: it was the dark side. The other hand flew quickly to his back, once again feeling the familiar grip of the handle within his palm as his fingers wrapped solidly around the weapon. Throughout the mind of this man lay many different experiences, even an aforementioned trace of death”¦ yet within it lay a somewhat lacking factor which the sith lord believed was absolutely necessary for one to become a sith: blood. ”

The Magnaguards had proved themselves to be expedient learners, their capacious databanks logging away all possibly attainable information within an instant. Thus was the difference between a droid and the simplistic mind of a human, one allowed to maintain so many flaws yet still held a higher position in the galaxy due to the galaxy's cruel disposition toward the droids, not allowing more than a few of them to reach any superior intellect that they might hold dominion over themselves rather their sentient masters. For this, Orik was glad. Yet now there was a distant presence, like a rumble shaking the languor set in about he force that had rested in a thick visage over the facility, saving the duel between his apprentice and some obscure bounty hunter whose ego stretched through the force as a towering sky-scraper which cast a large shadow upon all others... yet for this point it was merely an egomaniacal delusion forged by unfounded confidence in himself. If the man managed to best Slicer, which seemed an impossibility almost, then Orik would have him dealt with in due fashion, yet until then he was far from a threat. No”¦ I am feeling the arrival of a sith”¦ Orik instructed his four select Magnaguards, the ones which had received far more individual training than the others, to continue sparring against their various counterparts while he tended other matters. It would be a rather simple task to locate the sith apprentice, who most likely had the sense to not approach a sith lord such as himself. Thankfully that would show that this one wasn't an illogical, blundering imbecile among the giants of the sith and indeed gave Orik a bit more hope that his intentions would prove worthy. However, upon approaching the man, the stench of ignorance protruded his prejudicial aura”¦ yes”¦ that was certain. The Dark Side had gifted the Kel Dor with a few different distinctive talents: speed and strength far beyond his already impressive figure, effective telekinesis beyond the grasp of most, and chief of which a nearly unparalleled control of the mind. Through the aforementioned talent, such information was easily drawn from the beings mind as venom sucked easily from a wound. A boisterous voice, subtly manipulated by the auditory distortions of Orik's oxygen mask, resonated throughout the area where the apprentice waited. ”

((Okay... I guess I'll be backposting a bit what Orik has been doing this whole time...)) The yellow blade maneuvered through the Magnaguard's hand in a somewhat graceful manner, yet tempered by the robotic nature of its limbs that disallowed any true fluidity like the type Orik could achieve. With increasing intensity, the golden beam struck time and time against the defending sith lord's sword, finding itself clashing against a sea of sparks and to no true avail at that either. The movements of the sith were too quick, too agile for the droid to keep up with. They are improving though”¦ While his apprentice had left him, he had decided to train these four droids to full capacity so that they might be competent for him. It had actually turned to the point where he had been provided hundreds of bamboo sticks and all of the Magnaguards were able to start their training. He'd done rather well with them, finding that they took to form I with the mechanical efficiency which was always expected. Much more pleasurable was the fact that they were able to learn the techniques with an ever patient mind, content to stay studying the same form for hours on end. After this initial training, Orik had split the droids up into three groups. 20 of them were given bamboo poles twice as long to simulate double bladed lightsabers, 20 of them given two different regular bamboo sticks to simulate duel wielding. The others were being trained in the singular art of holding just one lightsaber. He'd trained one from each group extensively in the art of battle, to the point where they had nearly mastered the art by themselves. They were then dispatched to go teach their groups, with Orik aiding them being that he was a far better teacher for the fact he had known lightsaber combat for longer than the droids. It was really quite funny how many of them took to it when he gave them personal instruction while the others that didn't receive such individual focus were progressing considerably slower. Expected I'd suppose”¦ The Kel Dor had now actually given one of the droids his own lightsaber to use in a bit of a demonstration spar, the one who had the most improvement in the art. Coincidentally, it had also been the same one that had been repaired from the blaster wound it received at the hands of Orik's own weapon. This droid was quite skilled with the singular blade and found itself accustomed to it quite quickly. Soon the droids were doing very nicely in their different arts, and would've only progressed further had they ALL been given real lightsabers. Orik lent his saber around and alternated its possession between three of the four he had selected to take, minus the one who had been taught to wield the longer bamboo staff due to the fact he didn't want to confuse his training in the least bit. After all, the droid wouldn't want to become too used to the smaller hilt and the fact that there was only one blade to find that Orik desired him to forget all that knowledge and take up instead a different sort of weapon to vary his selective tastes in droids. Now he continued, pressing on with the training with an intense fervor so that as many of them as possible could be trained.

The man believed he was ready for more difficult, rigorous stances. In deed he was, yet now he would be forced to learn a lesson that would be incredibly pricely if he so chose to fail it. It could even cost him a large amount of injury and, if not perhaps for his armor, death. The saber in Orik's hand found itself idle as the hum left the environment and creeped back into a dormant lull. Slicer... think fast or you shall perish. The message slipped into his mind and made itself known with a sound voice that ressonated throughout the Imperial's mind in a pulsating tone, fading in and out in an echo like effect as the sith lord produced two small objects that he held by handles. They were very familiar to the many who had seen Jango Fett and the many who held Westar blaster pistols for their advanced properties, and now Slicer found himself staring into them as the barrel made itself apparent. Violent bursts of red energy emerged from the tips of the blaster pistols, hurling themselves toward the man with a unrivaled viciousness that sought to down the man. Of course, it was a derivation of the old method on how to teach a child to swim. You would hurl him into a body of water and save him if he is about to drown, otherwise forcing him to teach himself. Only there would be no salvation for Slicer, and he was all on his own in this task. Don't dissapoint.

((Ignore this.))

((As you might be able to tell, I posted with the wrong account, but oh well)) Orik continued to practice his exercises, not letting up the intensity for a second. It was far more simple to him than many other forms, for it was the basis from which all others originated. The importances of such a form was greatly underestimated by many of the more impatient sith, yet nothing would progress without it. After this you will use your work to block blaster bolts. Continue until you believe that you are prepared.

The comment was one that was laced with a tone of ignorance to the key factor in becoming a sith of tremendous power: a small measure of patience. Without such, one would let the basics fall to the wind and never truly master anything, becoming tyrant of nothing but the sands. No truly powerful being was impatient to the point where it proved to be a fault, and hopefully this would not be Slicer's undoing. Of course, being a warrior, Orik would've hoped that he would have thought about the fact that everyone had to start small before they reached the lengths of a jedi or a sith. The fluid movements cut with humming through the air in thin horizontal slices, becoming ever quicker while the orange, alien extremities wrapped themselves in an even more tightened grip around the metallic cylinder, decreasing the power of the saber so that the blade was sent to the point where it would do virtually no damage at all to anyone. If this man wasn't appreciative of the basics, perhaps it would take a little something more to hook his interested. Form IV is the most acrobatic and impressive visually, so perhaps that would be the form that I should show him in this bit of a demonstration. The Kel Dor suddenly threw in numerous different angled slices and spun the hilt lightly between his fingers, the beam dancing and spinning furiously as the left hand force pulled all of the mechanical abominations toward him with the mere alterance of the force. They came crashing down on him as though he were a magnet of some sorts, their metal crashing upon him with increasing velocity as they flew towar the sith lord, standing without fear of them in anticipation. With a sudden leap, his right foot met the face of one of the droids as the blade followed him, making a trail of lighta cross the being's chest as he started to flip off of the body with an inhuman amount of skill and finesse that was only talked about, yet rarely beheld. The flip's momentum gave him time to also incorporate a spin, and the lightsaber's motions followed the twisting and rotation of his body so that when Orik was above all of the droids, he took them all out with one slice that seemed to circumnavigate the outline of an invisible ring of ebullient fire, leaving in it's wake what easily could've been the shattered chests of all the IG-100 Magnaguards. Orik's feet touched down on the hard metal floor, body crouching slightly from the impact and resting with his blade facing outward from his side while his arm was fully extended in a pose that seemed to come out of a work of art. In reality, what he had just demonstrated was a work of art in and of itself, even if the droids still operated perfectly when this entire charade was done. "Yes, the element of surprise helped, but you see how that horizontal swipe I made in the air turned into a swing that cut through them all? Such is the nature of Form I. It is the foundation for the other forms, and traces of it are found in the forms you spoke of that the jedi use." The saber once again continued the regular horizontal motions, letting the darkside possess his arms and wrist as he did many swings that cut through the air and were designed to be done even by the small younglings that learned such a form in the days of old. Such was easy for him, yet Slicer was picking it up quite well too given the fact that he had been used to a weight at the end of his weapons so that he would be able to use his momentum and power in the swings, when with a saber most of the things were done with the simple flick of a wrist.

”

Orik gazed at the creation of his apprentice, who had devoted much time into the making of this item and the intricacies of it reflected the dedication and effort that went into constructing the weapon so that it fit the personality of Nadus Slicer and reflected his walk with the dark side, and a beauty of a saber it was. It was much like the saber of Lord Maultros, Orik's former apprentice, in many different ways. It was a double lightsaber that could separate into two different lightsabers, giving the ability for the user to enjoy a certain amount of flexibility with the use of the saber and gave many different ways to strike down an opponent, which was really the only reason that such a deadly force would be constructed in the first place, especially by a sith who dedicated his life to the pain and agony of others. How I miss my first saber”¦ The beams activated to a red and blue light, the crimson protruding from one side accompanied by the azure trace that outlined the blade of the opposite face of light. The beauty of it was enough to spread a small smile across the wicked face of the Kel Dor, not that anyone could see it, yet still it was a smile. The blades' hum were then cut off from the air as the sound was sucked from their ears and placed back in the hilt as the blades crept back into the cylinder. The work was a true representation of the resourcefulness that the man held with him, and it was undoubtedly a great way to show exactly who Nadus Slicer was to the rest of the galaxy who would soon fear his name, the same way the feared the name of every sith lord and master that roamed the planets in the name of death and agony. Giving the saber back to the Imperial, he gave a slight smile and thought of how useless the weapon was if one was not instructed in how to use it effectively to dispense immense amounts of pain and death in the most acute and precise ways. Only the instruction of one who was well versed with such weaponry would be able to aid the apprentice now, and fortunately the thing about a master and apprentice pairing that was so beneficial was that it allowed one on one instruction in such things. ”

((Filler post)) Orik paced impatiently, emerging from the state of meditation that he was in and trusted that his apprentice will have recieved the knowledge that was given to him with care. Hopefully the man would use that knowledge and use it to constructe a weapon that could take a life with the greatest of ease. I hope he comes back soon...I hate to be dissapointed. No, that man hadn't failed him yet. Through all the training, he had drawn on some source that hadn't been readily available to Orik during his training and had used it to give himself a much needed boost in the ways of the dark side, giving him the power to complete whatever he was given and the skill to do it with care and efficiency, both were invaluable traits for a sith. In fact, it wasn't too long before Slicer would be able to call himself a sith lord. He was already a force to be reckoned with without the force as his weapon, and now he had just added a precious weapon to his already nearly overflowing arsenal of weaponry. Through the man experiences the man had definatly stumbled upon quite a collection of assorted items that could all be used and serve to bring about death and anguish. His eyes drifted toward his sword, knowing that this sword too had tasted the blood of many and had brought about the death and anguish of even those so might as the jedi knights. Yet it still hungered for more, a thirst for blood that couldn't be quenched by any means int he galaxy. Hopefully it would get the chance soon... Hopefully...

((Sorry. Wrong account.))

((Filler post)) A swirling torrent of horrors engulfed the Kel Dor as he had slipped into a trance-like state, more as though he had plunged into a nightmare from which there was no hope for return from such. The dark shadows that twirled around in the corners of his vision did so with an unheard of vitality that was matched only by the magnificence of the moment. Through the dark side”¦ everything was connected. Through the force, Orik felt Slicer's mind. He'd slipped into a meditation, and now Orik could sense that dark side flowing around him. He was doing things too much like a jedi though, and this worried the sith lord. His knowledge of a lightsaber had probably been from tales of Jedi running to Illum for such. Through the force, a couple messages were sent: Blood”¦sweat”¦

((Heh, sorry Slicer. I opted for the crappy post due to time constraints.)) Orik nodded, knowing that Slicer had just agreed to partake in the creation of a weapon held sacred to every sith. Looking down to the own metallic hilt that he bore, he felt a slight longing for the one he had once called his own, crafted with grace and care. However, it had been used in the death of the former owner of the saber he had now. Just the sight of the crimson blade penetrating the chest of the jedi knight put a smile on Orik's face, hidden behind his mask. Sweet memories... With a hand, he grasped the blade and ignited it. The blade poured out, displaying a golden effulgence that accompanied the white beam with an entransing glow. Though Orik valued his sword far more, he still held onto this saber as a weapon and a trophy of one of his most dear accomplishments, right next to the avenging of his death as a hopeful and becoming a sith lord. Swinging it a few times, and then pointing the blade toward the air, he let the humm do the communication for him as it pointed toward the transportation that they had arrived in. It signaled for both of them to enter it. "I will be waiting in this shuttle. Travel to wherever you need to. When you are finished constructing your weapon, come back and show me." It didn't matter if the man thought that he needed any information regarding the creation of the weapon, for Orik wouldn't give him any information that the dark side couldn't reveal to him in a much more profound and meaningful way. There was really no doubt in his mind that the man would be able to sucessfully complete the task, yet it was just a matter of time...

It was an odd way to accomplish the task, but it had sucessfully built up a mental fortitude, so Orik supposed that it had to have been a sucess. As the hands withdrew and receded into the nothingness from which they came, the dark robed figure stood still, monitoring the mental games that the man played in the way that a scientist would take notes on the behaviors of a certain species. Fascinating... The Kel Dor looked to the man and had a few different things hey could say at that moment, a bundle of requests and questions conjoining in many different sentences and to the point where he had no clue as to which one he would pick. So, he confined all thought to one area of his mind, ready to let what needed to come out of his mouth flow down and move his jaw to get the words out correctly. "So, there are a few things we can do at this point. If you'd like to create a lightsaber, we could do that. If you'd like to check real quick on the troops, you could do that. We could also take a rest and give your body time to rejuvinate itself, because when that stim wears off you're going to almost collapse of exhaustion." The choices were presented, and Orik gave Slicer a bit of the responsibility for his own training. It was somewhat of a foreign subject to the Kel Dor, giving someone else even a small sliver of control or what was enjoyed by him in an entirety. However, being a follower of the dark side required independent thought, and that is what Nadus would have to display in sufficient quantity. Orik, in the mean time, decided to go into a sort of mental lull while the man pondered the questions, closing his eyes behind his goggles so that he might finally relax. He hadn't done such a primative thing as rest after Coruscant... the closest thing to rest was his near passing out of exhaustion aboard his ship, where he had seen a miraculous sight in a dream that had given him the will to keep moving and going, fuelinging his rage toward the jedi order even more, and especially the jedi that had defeated him. I await your decision...

The growing fatigue that rested and pressed down on the planet seemed to affect all of the inhabitants. Far off, some trailing people were sweating with exhaustion, and now the similar effects were being displayed by the impenetrable warrior who waas there resting in the middle of a sphere or power, formed all around him keeping everything else out. "Interesting. You will find that all sith have powers that are unique to us. Somehow we are together yet individual in the dark side." Orik's thoughts drifted off toward a power that he had been developing, they drifited off to the power that he had used on his own apprentice to disorient and nearly black him out. Perhaps he could use that power to add to the mental fortitude of Slicer, not only in the sense of having a strong mind, but a strong mind that could be complimented by the power of the force to appear to be invincible. Through the force, a message was sent into Slicer's mind that told him that his next task would be perhaps one of the hardest he had encountered in his training, and that he shouldn't respond aggressivly in as if it were an attack on his life. If he failed, it would just be a temporary sleep and a lull of incapcitation. Suddenly, dark hands grasped the mind of Slicer, opening it up and staring into the neural networks that ran throughout the brain. They began attacking them, disrupting them as though it was the most simple task and that it couldn't become any easier. The corners of the Imperial's vision began to blur and a bit of darkness began to creep into vision, threating to consume his very being as the dark side continued to pry into his mind. Let's see him stay awake...

((Sorry for the uninspired post below)) The objects were all being hurled at various velocities, cutting through the air before being pushed away by a wave of the force or dodge through the new found speed of Nadus. Yet they continued to come in swarms, never ceasing or letting up on their foe. Continuously they came like hail from the heavens, flying towards the man without any reason to do so other than the fact that the movements of the inanimate were not done by their own will. The sith lord stood there, unwavering in his stance and unfaultering in the rapid movements of his pawns as he tapped into the ebb and flow of the force, harnessing it like a swordsman would hold his blade, ready to strike. Suddenly, he noticed that the objects that were coming toward the man seemed to be coming toward the only other person in the immediate area also: himself. Clever little man. However, he does need to learn one thing... The darkness around them intensified, and the entire planet seemed to be cast in an endless shadow that blurred as the eyes attempted to fully comprehend the reach of the umbrage, yet they failed to do so due to the massive scope of influence the darkness had. In reality, the only place to be engulfed in the blackness was the one that Orik and Slicer were training in, yet it seemed to go on for an eternity, and not even through the corners of an eye could one see past the fields of seeming emptiness. Now Nadus was right behind him, and the robe that the Kel Dor wore blended in with the intensified night so much that it was unnoticiable the way that he ducked down, his dark garb clinging to his figure. Now everything rushed at all sides towards Slicer, including something that hadn't been expected by the man. With a giant push from an invisible giant, the Imperial found himself off-balance and being sent on a collision course with the dead corpse of a prisoner, his head ready to ram into the rips of the man with force that would injure him. Let's see him apply the force in a bit different of a way...

((OOC: Sorry. I'm a bit busy with a few things right now, so that's why I haven't posted earlier)) Orik's eyes followed the man up and then back down as Nadus plummeted back to the surface with a giant bounce in the force, which propelled him once again into the cold night air. Vision is not what allowed the sith lord to evaluate the height that Slicer had managed to get on the jump, yet it was the faint echo of his heartbeat that trailed off the higher he went, almost like some form of echo-location. The man was now beginning to think of something that might actually challenge this seemlingly unstoppable force of nature that seemed to do with relative ease what many could not do at all. Every task before him was not so much of an obstacle, but rather just a hurdle for the Imperial to jump over with the slightest of ease. Now was the time for the high jump that would put all of his ability to the limit and stretch it to see how much he had truly learned from the teachings of the Kel Dor so far. Tests were, afterall, the only way to evaluate the performance of a being. And I'm interested to see how he does... Fingers moved beneath the shelter of a black robe, each one connecting with a different object and pointing toward it. Everything in the ghost town was void of life, yet no place was void of the force... save Myrkr or The Last Call pretty much. The extremities were inconstant movement, slight and slow, but never resting as they moved their assigned objects up. The change in the location of the things was minimal, and only through the force would Slicer be able to sense their subtle manipulations as the great, invisible tentacles wrapped around each of them with complete control. The objects ranged from the body of a downed prisoner, to one of the assault rifles that the group had used, to a small piece of debris that had been left over from the Imperial clearing of the town after the Rebellion lost control of it. They all served a similar purpose, and for once they had one thing in common: they were abour to be hurled at Slicer. "Do what you must..." That was all that the armored Imperial would need to know. It was a fairly simple instruction, but it was much harder to carry out than assign. It was just like asking someone to kill another being. It looked quite a bit easier on paper, but sometimes the corpse was that of the assassin rather than the target that found it's way dropping to the ground. Within a quick second, the various objects were all hurled at the man from various different angles. Some he might be able to push away, while others he would perhaps have to jump over. However, Orik manuevered the objects so that the distance and speed of each one was different, to the point that even if Slicer jumped over all of them, he would still have to find some way to deal with some when he eventually got down. There were some coming down from the tops of the buildings, so he wouldn't be able to jump onto a building and escape that way. In the same way, Orik could change the direction of them so that he couldn't run past ALL of them. To manuever his way out of this one, Slicer would need to use all the things that he had been taught. The Kel Dor just simply waited, a spectator to the events that were unfolding. He had received much practice in the art of telekenesis, and it was without a doubt one of his more used and practiced skills. Yes, he still worked on it, unlike many sith who just thought that after they became a lord that they were immortal, and that they would have no use in building up something that even an apprentice could manage. However, it had also won him many fights, and the pattern of sentient behavior was that somebody would only continue a practice if it worked for them in some way or another. Even now he was practicing, getting even better then ever before. Not in every instance was the trainee the only one to learn. To make things somewhat worse to the man, Orik used a bit of his will to ease a thought into the Imperial's brain. It saved his breath, yet it would also serve as a minor distraction toward the man's senses, which were probably trying to keep track of all the hurling crap being tossed at him. Your move Nadus.

The dark, robed figure reappeared on the surface of the planet, a grin of satisfaction hidden behind the mask that he bore. The golden blade had crept back into the hilt, stealing the goldenrod illumination away from the night air and now the Kel Dor took more steps toward the man who had just assigned a rather intense task to the group of Imperials. The group seemed to be proficient he would presume, perhaps some less than others, but no matter. It was not his place to evaluate these personel, for he could take them out with ease. Any of them. Orik was sure of it. Now the figure was just a black menace, standing there and casting a taint of sinister evil into the his surroundings. The darkness around him became thicker, almost to the point where it became blacker than black could be. Within a second, the blackness receeded and the air became clearer than what would be thought possible. Orik crouched down, directing the power of the dark side into his legs, almost to the point where he could feel slight tremors rumbling through them as they surged with the mystical energy. The laws of gravity once again became his servant, being beaten and slapped around like one of the prisoners he had just slaughtered. The physical realm could not master Orik Bendan, yet it would be the other way around. Now. With a sudden movement, a dark blur hurled itself into the air as though it were propelled by some unseen force of as though the ground had bounced the man up into the sky. The buildings all became smaller in his vision, and so did the man gazing at him from below. Within a few more seconds, Orik was back on the ground. "You know what to do. Feel the dark side. Do it!"

A nod of satisfaction acknowledged the accomplishment of the man. However, it stopped as soon as the words had left the lips of Nadus, striking Orik as a bit odd. Perhaps his mentality didn't fully grasp how powerful he really was, although usually it was the opposite in most cases with sith. Most overvalued their skill and believed that they were invincible to some degree, yet that was obviously what prove to be their undoing. This one, however, might be the exact opposite, which displayed that his mind was extremly sharp and clever... to much so to become egomaniacle through these tasks. "No, the force didn't change your perception on the wall. That is the talk of a jedi. The force doesn't change you... you manipulate it. You forced it to obey you, for you are learning the ways of the dark side, and a follower of the dark sider controls themselves." With that, Orik began to walk out of the office without a word or so much as another gesture. There was, however, another little lesson that Slicer would have to learn, and this is how he would learn it. Inside of his mind, a small voice whispered something. What was the test would be if the man, if he could respond in kind. Would you be so kind as to lead me outside, or to a place with a higher ceiling?

((OOC: A little excited with the submit button? Sorry about this post, I had to write it in 3 mins )) Orik looked at the man and listened to each of his words with care and took them all in. The only thing that had really affected him about being hurled 10 meters was not the pain, for it was minimal, barely enough for a sith lord to even tap into. Yet it was the raw, untapped energy that was kept inside of Slicer and seemed to explode in a violent eruption of the force. That was by far the most surprising thing. Viewing the now relativly broken office, papers dispersed and desks demolished, Orik used the force to flip over them easily and then began to run along side one of the walls. His feet hit the wall over and over again in a continous fashion, spitting in the face of gravity itself. "Use the force speed I taught you earlier, and take it to a different degree." The sith lord stopped and plotted his feet down on a spot in the floor and stood, awaiting for the man he was training to attempt the task. Surprisingly the man had accomplished everything set before him in a relativly quick and easy fashion, and the force must've come to him much more easily than it had to Orik or his previous apprentice, for they both failed at times. It would interesting to see how this man would go so long without so much as failing one simple excercise, and if he eventually did, how would he take it. Only time would tell...

Orik donned a face of satisfaction as he glanced over the man who had just finished running numerous laps around the office. The sight would've looked quite peculiar had Orik not seen it done with such speed and efficiency. It was as though something was buzzing around the room, barely visible to the eyes and a blur to the senses. Wind had rushed from every movement that Slicer had made, and an especially large gust of wind that ruffled the clothing of the Kel Dor came whenever the man came close to him. "Interesting. Very Interesting. I feel slightly drained but yet I am not tired."... that is what the man said. It was a natural and expected response, considering that the Force didn't drain just physical energy, but instead the powers of a force-sensitive could feed from the very essence of the mystical energy. Usually a being moving a quarter of that speed would be panting and begging for a rest out of pure exhaustion after this point, yet new resources were being tapped into by the man. Impressive... Now the men stood in the same room, both completly still with perfectly erect postures. The daunting heat of the planet was obviously kept at bay from the interior due to the lovly breeze that blew softly through troom due to the temperature system, and Orik took a second to melt in the cold embrace of not having physical, strenuous activities to perform constantly. Now it was just him and this man who wished to learn the many different ways of the force, and to fathom the awesome might that could be given to one who possessed such a power. Still, Orik's tongue wished to taste the might of battle again due to what seemed to be an unquenchable thirst for blood. The lust for combat had found itself deep in the soul of the sith lord and refused to give out for any reason at all. Somehow, for some reason or another, Orik was able to keep sane during this momentary period of relaxation though. His body was certainly not complaining... Refocusing himself on a more pertinent subject, he turned to the armored Imperial and reached out a hand toward him, palm almost touching his chest. The dark side swirled around both of them and the power suddenly surged to a climax at the point of his finger tips. With a giant upheval of energy, a wave in the force was unleashed that sent the full-grown man flying through the air as if he were a doll. That assumption wasn't too far off compared to the way a force could treat even the heaviest, largest opponent as though he were a weightless feather, and the same could be said for Slicer at that time. "Does it make you angry? You had no way to stop that, you were completly helpless. Capture that rage and focus it back at me. Try to get a small measure of revenge for me treating you like the dirt that you really are." The tone of Orik's voice didn't give away that he knew Slicer was far more than dirt, yet rage was best served fresh and seasoned... the insult was the bit of seasoning that would hopefully trigger something in the man. Perhaps it would be another memory that Orik had felt the man continously dwell on whenever he was given a task, and perhaps it would not be. It would just take time to see his reaction to the current situation, and Orik was waiting patiently.