Project Boussh: Battle of the Jedi
by Vickie Boyd and Majick




Vickie stood before the door to the room Mike had absconded on the *Red
Home* to  sleep. Corran had suggested that she work with him in
lightsaber combat, as well as other aspects of both their abilities. He
had given her an idea of Mike's strengths and weaknesses and mentioned
about the use of music. She had eagerly listened to that part.

Using the Force, she telekinetically unlatched the lock. The door
swished open. Mike lay on the bed asleep. She smiled. He had worked so
hard to make up for the jokes he had pulled on everyone. It reminded her
to keep her mind open at all times. She was not going to fall for any of
his traps. Corran had felt that by now he would be rested, after pulling
a watch shift on top of the stunt Nick and Josh had pulled the night
before.

He certainly looked rested, curled up like a newborn under the sheet.

She had to awaken him in a way that would startle him. Telekinetically
lifting him, she moved him from the bed into the middle of the room. He
wore shorts and a t-shirt, much to her delight. When he was right where
she wanted him, she cleared her throat. "Michael, wake up," she said in
a singsong voice.

He groaned and rolled over.

"Typical," she mumbled. "Hey Mike! Wake up!"

"Huh? What?" Mike sat up and promptly banged his head on the ceiling.
Rubbing his head, he looked around. "What the..."

She let him go.

He began to fall to the floor. Tucking his body, he hit the ground and
rolled, popping to his feet and lighting his saber.

She nodded approvingly. "Nice. Did Shalla teach you that?"

He finally focused in on her voice. "Yeah. What are you doing here," he
asked, switching off his lightsaber.

She smiled as she intently watched the yellow blade return to its home.
"I'm glad you didn't come up swinging. I have come to take you to
practice."

"Um, do you mind if I get dressed first?"

"Not at all. Meet me in the bay."




Mike moved into the docking bay. Several X-Wings and one A-Wing were
spread about. Wedge and Sci had decided to move them here after his
surgery. It would be safer and harder for someone to detect where they
were. He reached out with the Force to try and sense her. Failing, he
frowned and walked towards the center of the bay.

"It took you long enough."

Mike jumped slightly. Looking up, he saw her sitting on the wing of one
of the X's. Her ankles were crossed and her legs were swinging back and
forth. She looked very calm and confident. His eyes moved to the ship
and saw the familiar silhouette of a Death Star and some Star
Destroyers. It must be Tycho's ship.

"Shall we get started?" She pulled the pair of goggles that were on the
top of her head down over her eyes and dropped to the deck. "I don't
want to break my glasses," she said to his confused look. "They're
prescription. All praise James Worthy for designing these. It's great to
actually have peripheral vision for once." She adjusted them and pulled
her lightsaber from her waist.

"Good idea," he said pointing to the c-clip she had used to clasp her
saber to one of her beltloops on her jeans.

"Thanks." She did her best to sound smug. She wanted to unnerve him so
he wouldn't treat her like a "girl". "Ready to be beaten?"

"You're certainly plenty sure of yourself."

"I'm supposed to be," she said with a grin.

He shook his head and ignited his saber. He knew she was wrong. "Ok,
have at you."

"'Have at you.' That is just soooo cute." She pushed her switch up one
notch. "Oh yeah, Zraii, Cubber and Koyi said to try and not hit the
ships. Even at the low power we have our sabers on, it can still affect
the engines." She spun the blade in circles. "Koyi actually said some
choice words in Ryl, actually." She marveled as the purple flashed
before her eyes with every turn.

"When you're quite ready," the Brit said, a shade pointedly, with an
eyebrow raised.

She grinned. "Oh, sorry. I just love that sound." She stopped and pulled
the sword into a defensive position. "En garde."

He nodded and began his attack with a fade forward, then moving left and
swinging his saber from left to right.

She brought her blade up to block his attempt. The sabers crackled as
they touched. "Just like in the movies."

He rolled his eyes and pushed off her blade. Pressing his attack again,
they both danced around each other. The blades clashed over and over. He
actually got through a block and tagged her arm. His saber bounced back.

"I'll be damned," she said as the saber ricocheted from her arm.

"What the hell was that?"

"Force shield. Blocks any attacks, if I concentrate on it." She took a
step back and dropped into a defensive position again.

Mike moved in. She led him on a wild goose chase through the bay.

Giggling and ducking under Pash's A-Wing, she cut back around the front.

Mike had disappeared. She reached out with the Force and still could not
find him. "Ah, blocking me, huh? I have other abilities, you know."

She opened her senses, listening closely to all the sounds. She heard
some shuffling behind her. "Ah-hah." She turned around to see nothing.
Her senses were baffled.

*Whoosh*

She was tagged in the back. Staggering forwards, she turned to look at
Mike. "Nice job," she said with a strained voice.

He shrugged, "Just something I thought of."

"Not only did you block me from sensing you in the Force, you blocked my
enhanced hearing."

"That was the general idea. I must admit, I'm pretty chuffed that it
worked. So, are you ready to give up?"

"Not at all. But, I do think we are ready for a change of pace." she
pulled a comlink out of her pocket and spoke into it. "Ok, start from
the beginning."

Music and voices began to reverberate through the bay. The tune was very
familiar. "Duel of the Fates?" he queried.

She grinned evilly and nodded. "Too bad neither one of us has a
double-bladed lightsaber."

He chuckled. "I don't think so." They both set to attack and began their
fight anew.



Mike grinned as he pressed his attack. For too long, he'd been denied
the pure thrill of testing his abilities in pure combat. No guns, no
ships, just one-on-one close combat.

His mind flashed back to the schoolyard war he'd waged many years
before.

Suddenly, he felt a hard shove in his chest, and stumbled backwards,
gasping for breath.

"Thank you, Lady Vader," he wheezed, with a mock bow. "I suppose I
should be grateful it wasn't a pipe you lobbed at me."

"Just my mental strength," the be-goggled woman opposite replied.

Mike scratched at his goatee as he circled opposite Vickie. He knew her
Force abilities far exceeded his own, and the music coursing through the
hangar bay was so far only distracting him, not helping. He tapped into
the Force to help him regain his composure, and a welcome relief flowed
through him.

He snapped his lightsabre up again, parallel to his chest. He stepped
in, Vickie's own movements mirroring his own. Mike had to shake his head
to clear the absurdity of the idea. She was more than six inches shorter
than him, probably 80 pounds lighter. What chance did she have? One
quick slash, and...

"Oh no, not that easy, Boyd," Mike said, with a smile. "Stay out of my
head, or I put you out."

"Can't blame a girl for trying," she laughed. She spun in close,
sweeping her blade low, and catching Mike's left leg just below the
knee.

He hissed as he hobbled backwards, lifting his blade high to catch a
blow designed to bisect him lengthways. Jumping back, he landed hard on
his left leg, and felt the weakened joint fail him.

Vickie smiled as she pushed into the attack. She swung another blow at
Mike's ribcage, forcing him to flail backwards, before falling flat on
his back. His lightsabre flashed out as it fell from his fingers. She
held the tip of the blade a few centimeters from his throat.

Mike glared at her for a few long seconds, trying to see anything behind
the lenses of her goggles. The darkness of the bay prevented it, and he
slowly raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

A smattering of applause reached his ears over the music. He looked up
as Vickie pulled her blade away, and saw the rest of Team Boussh
scattered around the walkway at the top of the hangar.

"Duel of the Fates" faded as he took Vickie's hand, and hauled himself
upwards. She flicked his lightsabre up in the air, and it arced gently
into his hand.

"A set up?" he asked, rubbing his back.

"Not exactly. I think a few people wanted to see what we could do, and
this seemed like a good forum."

"Oh sure, everyone gets to see you kick my backside. Outstanding."

The snap-hiss of his lightsabre forestalled her reply, and she backed up
a few meters before lighting her own blade. The purple tint to his blade
was a shade darker then Vickie's. The overall impression was attractive,
though Mike doubted he'd have time to appreciate the aesthetic side when
Vickie tried to cleave his head from his shoulders.

Above them, Whistler's random selection produced a George Michael song
Alison had requested at the party. As 'Freedom' floated through the air,
Mike sighed. His tenuous grip on the Force slid away from him, and he
resigned himself to a down and dirty fight, in which he'd probably smell
his own flesh crisping like a prawn on a barbecue.

Then he remembered where they were fighting.

He grinned as he slipped backwards under Bror's X-Wing. For a second,
his hand was all that was visible, beckoning Vickie onwards. She inched
her way around the engines, and ducked to look under the fuselage.

A flying gob of grease caught her flush in the face, blinding her.

Mike roared out of the shadows, bringing his blade sweeping around, and
glancing off Vickie's Force shield. His second swing caught her across
her ribs, and he felt the shield give way. She bought her lightsabre
around in a desperate attempt to block the last swing, but failed. She
gasped as Mike's blade slashed through her wrist, and the lightsabre
fell from her hand as her fingers went numb.

Vickie cursed as she pushed her goggles up onto her forehead. Mike
lowered his blade and Vickie cursed again as she fumbled for her weapon,

finally picking it up in her left hand. She shook her right hand
frantically, trying to regain some feeling. Eventually, she took the
lightsabre in her right hand, and swiped her sleeve across the front of
the goggles, clearing the grease off.

"Nice shot. Dirty, but nice." She moved towards the side of the bay.
"Whistler! Pause the playback." Turning on the water at an eyewash
station, she rinsed off her goggles. She dried them on her shirt and
turned back around. "Ah, that's better."

She walked back to Mike and ignited her blade, dropping into a fighting
stance. "Resume playback!" A heavy backbeat started to reverberate
through the bay announcing the techno sound of the next piece of music.
A sneer crossed Vickie's face, "Let Mortal Kombat begin."

Her attacks were fast and furious, in time to the music. He blocked each
one, slipping into the beat. The music gave both power. They moved all
around the bay, faster than any of the others had imagined the two could
have managed.


Up in the observation room, Sci stood beside Corran watching the battle.

"How are they doing?"

Corran ran a hand across his chin. A light stubble had grown since Mirax
had left for Mendellia with the others. "They seem to be doing rather
well."

"Any chance I'll be able to control those two once this thing is over?"

The Jedi chuckled. "That question is better asked of Wedge than me. He's
the one who has had Jedi in his crew."

Sci laughed. "You're right. Still, I am impressed at their abilities."
He watched as the two students pushed into each other, blades crackling.




Vickie jumped back a step and grinned. She faded forward, as if she was
going to attack. Mike slid his left foot backward to balance himself and
block her attack. Something wrapped itself around his ankle. She
gestured upwards with her blade.

Mike suddenly was looking at the world from a different angle.
Upside-down and with a purple blade pointed at him. Howls of laughter
from the crowd echoed through the bay. "Did Nick and Josh talk you into
this?"

"Nope. I saw the rope laying there the last time we came through here."
She took his forearm and released the rope. He flipped down to land on
his feet. "My point?"

"Your point," he replied as he stepped into a defensive stance, ready to
go again as the music ended.


'If it's games she wants,' Mike thought to himself, 'then games it shall
be.'

"Whistler," he called. "Begin playback, code C:/Napster/The Brood..." he
looked at Vickie, "...Hell Rising."

He reversed his grip on the lightsabre, turning it upside down. His right
hand rode the pommel now, with his left clasping the hilt. Staring
straight into Vickie's goggles, he stuck his tongue out, the closest he
could manage to an Anzati sneer.

The clashing chords of the mock gothic track pounded around the bay.
Vickie was visibly shaken, as she looked at her sparring partner. His
new stance altered the play of light from is weapon, and he was now much
more shade than light.

She raised her own lightsabre, pointing the tip at Mike's chest, ready
for any attack. She watched him bounce forward, slashing low with his
blade. Instinctively, she danced out of the way. She stared at his face,
all trace of emotion gone from it. He circled slowly, and she mirrored
his movements.

"No holds barred, am I right?" he called out to her.

"That's right. Anything goes," Vickie replied, looking faintly puzzled.

"Good," he replied, curtly.

He leapt.

Vickie stepped back instinctively, realizing too late she had maneuvered
herself against Pash' A-Wing. She cursed her too tight focus, and tried
furiously to bat Mike's blade away as he rained stroke after thunderous
stroke down upon her. The sheer ferocity of the assault worried Vickie,
it was something she'd not experienced in any of her sparring partner's
up until this point.

Mike hammered away at Vickie's blade, keeping her off balance. She was
leaning back against the ship, one hand out to stop herself falling
further back, the other rapidly twisting the purple blade through block
after parry after guard.

Eventually, Mike found the gap he was looking for. A hard sweep at head
height forced Vickie to duck, and Mike followed through with the flow,
twisting on one foot, and bringing his left forearm into Vickie's right
with a hard jolt. Once again, Vickie's lightsabre flew from her hand,
and Mike wasted no time bringing his own blade back close to Vickie's
throat.

"My point?" he asked, his voice a fair mimicry of Vickie's own accent.

Vickie looked into her sparring partner's eyes, and found them sparkling
with cheerful amusement, belying the blood and thunder expression on his
face. She sighed, a trace of relief as well as breathlessness.

"Your point," she conceded. "Whistler, random playback, all files."

"Whistler," Mike added. "No more requests. Continue random playback,
regardless."

The music changed again. This time, it was a tune Mike recognized as one
of Sci's requests, the Beatles, with 'Hey Jude'. Mike had objected at
the time, and really didn't want to hear the piece now. He had little
choice, however, so set himself into the defensive guard he'd adopted in
the last round.

Vickie obliged by coming in low. Her motion slow and languid, matching
the tone of the music. Mike wondered if it were tiredness, or if there
was a touch of Tionne in her midichlorians as well.

Vickie batted at Mike's blade, seeking only to keep him on the
defensive. She knew there were some aspects of the Force where she was
just better than Mike, and they'd speculated that her ability to think
clearly in the midst of conflict was one of them. Corran had called the
ability 'Battlemind', and Vickie knew it was responsible for her winning
arguments with Rich over the years that she'd had no right to win.

Mike had speculated that all women were sensitive to the Force in that
area when he'd heard of it.

Vickie's mind was running constantly, looking for openings, boxing Mike
in, allowing for any move he might make. Unless he tried something
unpredictable, like the Dark Side mimicry, or the grease... Well, she
would win.

Mike noticed the far away look begin to settle on Vickie's face, and
knew he had to counter it. He thought of Wes, and how he'd reacted in
this sort of situation. He grinned, and jumped back a half step, out of
Vickie's range.

"Wait, wait, Vickie, wait," he pleaded, holding his arms wide. It
worked. She snapped out of her trance, and looked at him.

"Look, its Earth!" he cried, and weaved his blade through a circle,
leaving a glowing globe in the air.

"It's the cabin!" he added, and a rectangle appeared at the tip of his
blade.

"It's me!" he shouted, throwing every erg of the Force into the biggest
leap he could manage. He landed sprawled on the wing of Corran's
snubfighter, and scrambled to his feet, looking for Vickie.

"Was that supposed to impress me?" she asked, from behind him. He spun
around, in time to deflect the swing aimed at him.

"I saw what you were plotting," she said, as she swung at him. " And I'm
better at moving objects -including myself- than you are."

He staggered backwards, stumbling across the unfamiliar surface of the
ship. He'd burned off most of his Force reservoir to accomplish the
jump, and yet Vickie was barely breathing hard. He marveled at the
strides she'd taken in her quest to become a Jedi, and knew he had
barely a fraction of her ability.

'Just as well, all things considered,' a treacherous voice came from
within him.

In that instant, Vickie was through his defenses, and her blade slashed
through his shoulder. Mike cried out, and dropped his lightsabre, half
stepping, half falling backwards, towards the edge of the ship. Before
Vickie could do anything, he lost his footing, and fell, toppling
headfirst off the ship, flailing wildly on his way down.

The song came to an end as she dove for the side. She grabbed his hand
before he got too far. Looking up, he saw the strain on her face as she
tried to pull him up. "Damn Paul McCartney," she grunted. "I knew he had
to be a dark Jedi."

Mike marveled at her. Here she was, tired from fighting, saving his
life, and cracking a joke, all at the same time. He felt a push in the
Force and he was back on the wing.

She sat back and breathed heavily. Whistler was playing one of Anna
Magdalena Bach's harpsichord pieces. She let the familiarity of the 4/4
beat refocus the Force.

"Thanks."

"Hm?" She opened her eyes to see Mike sitting in front of her. He looked
rather tired. "Focus," she said to him.

He looked at her curiously.

"Feel the music."

He closed his eyes and let the music flow through him. He wasn't big on
classical music. It was an irritant. He couldn't focus. Suddenly his leg
hurt. "Ow!" He opened his eyes to see her pulling her lightsaber back
from his thigh.

"Focus, I said." She gave him her best Yoda stare. "Regain your
strength, you will." Her attempt at the accent made him burst into
laughter. She giggled as well.

Closing his eyes again, he felt his strength returning quickly. Taking a
deep breath, he stood and backflipped off the wing to the floor. The
next song began, "It's All Been Done" by Barenaked Ladies.

Vickie landed in front of him and sang with the song. "You were wrong, I
was right. You said goodbye, I said goodnight." Her blade ignited and
slashed towards him.

He quickly pulled his up to block her swing. She continued to sing and
bounce around. He marveled at how rejuvenated she was. All he could
manage was to block her attacks. At least they were rather languid.

She continued her attack at a much slower place. He needed to rest a
bit. She wasn't going to let up on him, but make him think. The song
finished and they were still at a standoff.

There was a slight pause before the next song started. "Red Barchetta"
by Rush. Vickie's mind raced through the lyrics of the song. Yes, it
could work. She let him take the offensive this time.

Mike pushed forward and she moved back. He swung his blade left and
right in a flurry of attacks. He hoped to catch her off guard.
Consciously blinding her from the Force, he continued his attack.

She felt his purge of her mind and grinned inwardly. She was expecting
that. With the last bit of energy she had before he had her completely
blocked, she pushed him in the chest and dashed away from him.

He staggered from the push. "Oh, now that was different." He watched her
retreating form curiously. What was she planning? He walked in the
direction she had gone cautiously.

The line from the song telling of driving the car back across the bridge
at the creature came on and he saw her coming towards him. He thought
she looked like an anime character, blade low behind her as she ran.
When she was fifteen feet ahead of him, she jumped.

He watched her come down, saber over her head ready for a downstrike.
Closing his eyes, he brought up his blade to block her. There was no
weight on his arms.

She landed in front of him in a crouch. "Oh, Mike," she said sweetly.

He opened his eyes and looked down.

With a twist of her wrists to the left, she ran her blade through his
midsection.

With a shudder, he collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath, fighting
against the urge to hurl. When Vickie's boot came into his line of
vision, the evil side of his mind prompted him to purge himself all over
her feet, leaving them slippery.

He rocked backwards onto his haunches, as the song came to an end. For a
few seconds, as Whistler cycled through the tracks, he collected his
thoughts and focused as well as he was able to on the Force. The music
began again, and he felt as though he should have had the edge. he
recognized the lead in to the Trammp's 'Disco Inferno', and climbed to
his feet.

Sometimes the Force has nothing to do with refreshing a person.

Sometimes even a padawan needs to get down.

"Follow me," he murmured to Vickie. A confused look crossed her face,
then she too shut down her lightsabre. They faced each other, feet hips
width apart, hands held loosely at their sides. As the notes descended,
Mike counted the beats off under his breath.


Up in the gallery, a susurration of noise cut through the beat. No one
could work out what the two combatants were doing. Corran looked
questioningly at Sci, who could only shrug in bemusement.


Down in the hangar, Mike felt the moment coming. At the right second, he
sang out: "Disco Inferno!!!" and threw his hands high left, then high
right. By the time he dipped forward, spinning his hands over themselves
in a disco bow, Vickie was with him. As the chorus faded, both ignited
their lightsabres, and danced into the attack.

Vickie was strong in the Force, but Mike was strong in the music. And
after three years of leading the line at Eros every Monday night, he was
ready to show it. Every step was perfect, every blow parried at the last
second, and when the chorus came again, the lightsabres shut off for the
two to cut a rug.

The song lasted six minutes, a six minute spell in which Vickie danced
or defended. With enhanced senses, with her greater ability to fight,
even with her greater access to the Force, there was nothing she could
do.

Eventually, at the end of the last bow, Mike's sabre was in his hand,
and sweeping upwards. She was too worn out to block, almost even to
care, as the blade bisected her from hip to shoulder.

A round of spontaneous applause erupted from the gallery in appreciation
of the fine display the two were putting on.

The music changed again, and Mike grimaced as the clock fast forwarded
to the 1980's, and Duran Duran's 'Rio'. Though a child of the 80's,
Mike's firm belief was that his two then-teenaged sisters' had scarred
him for life. The George Michael thing had been particularly painful.

Vickie, however, was in her element. Closer to Mike's sisters in musical
taste than Mike, Duran Duran were her favourite band, and 'Rio' one of
her favourite songs. She smiled at him, as she circled, her lightsabre
held loosely in one hand, her left side presented to him.

He stepped slowly to his right, staying opposite her, his mind a lather
of indecision. With a grimace he stepped forward, bringing his
lightsabre up, pointing straight at the ceiling.

Vickie smiled as she stepped into the attack, batting away at Mike's
blade as the troubled DJ fought to maintain some semblance of composure
under the onslaught.

It didn't work. Inside a minute, Vickie hammered her blade hard against
his. This time Mike's lightsabre went flying, and Vickie held her own
blade parallel to the ground, just barely touching the metal of Mike's
belt buckle. A small trail of smoke lifted between them.

For the first time Mike could see Vickie's eyes as the blade illuminated
her goggles. They were playful, but hard. She was taking the fight
seriously, both as an exercise in the Force, and as a fight. He wondered
if her recent encounter with the dark side had anything to do with it.
Vickie, for her part, was enjoying humiliating Mike a little. While she
hadn't been the target of any of the pranks he'd played, she would have
appreciated the chance to join in. Truth be told, she'd had her own
campaign planned, and Mike's intervention had ruined it.

The song came to an end as Mike yielded the point, only to be replaced
with another Duran song, 'Save A Prayer'. Mike looked balefully up at
Vickie as he retrieved his weapon. She held her hands out in mock
surrender.

"Nothing to do with me," she said. "Random play, remember?"

Mike growled something intelligible, and set himself for the next round.

Vickie was intrigued by his stance, as it was neither aggressive, nor
defensive, proactive or reactive.

She ducked just in time.

Mike's wild swing took him round in a full circle as it failed to
connect. Vickie stuck a leg between his as he swung, and sent him
crashing, hard, to the ground.

A quick slash with her lightsabre cut Mike 'open' from throat to navel,
and again he curled up, dry heaving as he tried to hold his supper down.

Vickie allowed Mike a minute to regain his composure, but she noted that
it was a weary and dirty looking young man who climbed to his feet.
Indeed, Mike seemed on the verge of quitting the fight, rather than take
any more punishment.

"It was a good trick, confusing my sense like that," she allowed.
Indeed, without her enhanced senses, Mike would have had the last point
in record time.

"It didn't work, though, did it?" Mike said, sourly. All trace of good
humour was gone from his face, and his voice. Vickie shivered as she
looked into his cold, blue eyes.

"I suppose you think you're good, anticipating that attack?" he
continued. "You're not. You're just a lucky woman, Vickie."

"There is no luck, only the Force," Vickie quoted.

"Oh sure, hide behind the Jedi aphorisms. Look what it got them. The
best Jedi knew that there was something beyond the Force, but you'll
never achieve that."

"And you will?"

"I see us, me and you," Mike continued, as though not hearing her. "You
know I have a gift for viewing the future. What I see will happen. I see
you, lying at my feet, my blade sticking out of you. There's nothing you
can do about it."

Vickie attacked. Mike raised his lightsaber slowly, catching the blow
carelessly, as though it were insignificant.

"You're a puny, weak" -parry- "woman. You have no surprises." -block- "I
can anticipate every move" -block- "you try and make, before you make
it." His every movement was completed with a minimum of effort. He
simply stood his ground, blocking Vickie's every attempt to advance,
using only one arm.

"You're stunted" -guard- "of course. All of your ilks are. It's typical,
I suppose. Any weak, aging little woman like you would be the same. Any
talent" - block- "at all, and you start to think you're Mara Jade. You
rely" -parry- "on the Jedi code, as though words mean anything. All that
matters" -block- "is power, and how you use it. And frankly, you have
little power, and less" -parry- "knowledge of how to use it."

"Use this," Vickie said, sweetly stabbing into Mike's chest with her
blade.

Trying to, anyway.

Mike caught the blade six inches from his chest, and it vanished into
his hand, before stuttering, and dying.

At the same time, Mike stabbed upwards, into Vickie's stomach.

He extended his arm, pointing a single finger at Vickie, and moved the
pointing finger an inch sideways.

Vickie left the floor, and turned upside down. She hung five feet off
the floor, her arms hanging limply beneath her. Mike stepped up and
looked into her eyes with a triumphant sneer on his face. Then his
expression softened, and he stuck his tongue out at Vickie, before
blowing a raspberry at her.

"Ptttthhhhhhpppp!!!"

"You got me. Again. I don't believe I fell for that."

"Heh. Words are important, Vickie. And I just used some fairly minor
insults to get to you. What would you have done if I'd insulted your
family?"

"Okay, so I irritate a little easily... Lesson learned."

"Of course, while you were getting all tired out like that, I was
tapping into the Force, recharging the batteries, topping off the
reservoir. I'm all fresh and toasty now. You?"

Vickie growled, and murmured something impolite under her breath.

"Can I come down now?" she asked.

"I guess so, I don't think that charge from your lightsabre will last
much longer. Although... I don't know. You look awful cute hanging here
like that. Like a big old side of beef hanging in a butcher's window."

This time, it was Mike who ducked just in time, only to be landed on by
the 'side of beef'. "Why you stuck up, half-witted, scruffy-lookin' nerf
herder!"

"Who's scruffy lookin'?" He gave her that silly lopsided grin.

She smacked him playfully. "That is so not fair." She pushed herself up
from the floor and held out a hand to help him up.

He looked up at her untrustingly.

She just shrugged and pulled her hand back. Walking over to the wall,
she stuck her lightsaber into a socket. As she moved back towards him,
she realized the music playing was "Ewok Feast/Part of the Tribe." She
started doing a little dance when the music sped up.

Mike laughed.

She grinned evilly. The next song was going to confuse the heck out of
him. It started out fast with a woman singing, "Set me free. Gonna be
alone, got to be free." After a short guitar solo, the main singer
started singing. In Japanese. ("Breeze" from The Slayers by Megumi
Hayashibara)

He stopped laughing as she flipped towards him. Dropping in front of
him, she had her left arm extended and her right at her shoulder, palms
out. "Hi-ya." She waved him forward.

He shut off his saber and clipped it to his waist. With a slight bow, he
mirrored her stance.

She came forward with her right hand towards his head. He bent his left
arm at the elbow and blocked her. He didn't notice her left hand move
forward slightly and catch his cheek. She grinned and the light was
where he could see the twinkle in her eyes.

He came at her with his right leg, which she blocked with her left arm.
He swung out with his left arm and tagged her ear. Her head snapped to
the side with the blow.

She snarled as she came at him. Arms and legs flew, blocking and
attacking. Each one got in a few good hits. Those watching thought they
were actually watching Michelle Yeoh and Jet Li fighting, but only in
moves. Neither one looked remotely Asian.

Vickie pushed Mike back towards the wall. He saw the reflection of
crates in her goggles. With a jump backflip, he landed on top of the
crates. He stuck his tongue out at her as he ran across the top of the
crates.

She shook her head and grinned. Clasping her hands together and closing
her eyes, She settled in the Force.

He had gotten away from her, but he had no idea for how long. A quick
glance back showed that she wasn't following. That worried him. Then he
realized why. The crates under his feet began to shake and finally give
way. Using the skills Shalla had taught him, he pulled himself into a
ball and rolled to the floor.

He came out of his roll to flip to his feet. She was standing right in
front of him. "Shalla taught you well," she said as she bowed and
dropped into the fighting stance again. The music changed. KDFM doing
"Juke Joint Jezebel" blared through the speakers.

Once again, they battled like Martial Artists. Vickie marveled at how
much Mike had picked up from Shalla. He was unaware that she, too, had
taken some lessons from the Wraith hand-to-hand specialist.

He reached out to grab her, but she ducked. Two rabbit punches to the
gut stopped him. She began to stand while turning her back to him. She
came up under his right shoulder and grabbed his arm. Using her
momentum, she pitched him forward.

He landed with a "oof" as the air was forced from his lungs. She jumped.

He saw two feet coming towards him.

She stopped her descent centimeters over his chest. "Point," she asked,
sounding more like a child than a 33 year old woman.

"Point," he replied breathlessly.

She took a step to the right and lowered to the floor. This time he took
the offered arm and allowed her to pull him to his feet. As he rose, he
looked over at her lightsabre, charging away on the wall. He smiled.

"So, we've proven nothing in lightsabre combat, and you seem to have the
edge on me if we're going to fight prettily..." he said, eyeing her
carefully.

"So?" she asked warily.

He gave her a uni-shrug, and stamped on her foot.

Despite ten years of warfare between him and his much older sisters,
Mike still considered himself a gentleman when fighting any female.
Nonetheless, he knew Vickie was trained to take much harder blows than
he'd dealt out.

He followed the stamp with a body charge to the stomach of his shorter
opponent. Landing on top of her, he reached back, and snagged her legs,
springing backwards as he did so, grapevining her legs around his and
turning her over onto her front.

He leant back, cinching in the leg lock, and knowing from experience the
pain coursing threw Vickie's lower back. After only a few seconds, she
conceded the point. Mike released the hold, lowering her legs to the
ground. He helped her up, hoping no permanent damage had been done.

She stood up, and rubbed the small of her back, wincing as she did so.

"A Sharpshooter?"

"I wouldn't have thought you'd be into wrestling, but yes. I used to
fight my cousin and his friends. When you go up against kids two years,
thirty pounds, and the whole of puberty ahead of you... Well, you learn
to make them submit. You certainly won't out brawl them."

"Got anything else like that stored in that devious mind of yours?"

"Too many to mention. If you want, I could teach you how to do a
quebrada, a scissor kick, or a tiger driver."

"I'll pass. You can really do all those?"

"I'm a little rusty," he allowed. "Probably, though."

She walked over to the charging point, and unhooked her lightsabre. She
hefted it in one hand, feeling the warmth from within.

"Stick with these," she said, giving him a warning glance.

He smiled, and unhooked his own from his belt. Once again, the music
faded.

The two sized each other up. They were worn out, dirty, their clothes
torn, their muscles aching. By now, each had the measure of the other.
They were well matched.


Up in the gallery, Whistler bleeped and hooted as he tried to access a
new music file. Corran was by his side in an instant.


The two faced each other across the pathway that led between the
starfighters. Vickie waited for the new song, knowing the change in
music would disorient Mike. Mike simply stood, in a half guard position,

a faint smile on his lips. Then, he pointed vaguely, before moving his
finger across by a few centimetres. Vickie recognized the gesture from
before.


In the gallery, Sci stood behind Corran. "What's wrong?" he asked the
Corellian.

"Whistler says he just had a bunch of files deleted. Noting major, I
think. Just the music files we downloaded."

"Is anything left?"

"One file. 'The Battle Of Hoth'."

Sci looked out over the hangar, a faint smile playing on his lips as he
heard the opening notes of the piece, deceptively slow and soft. He
watched Mike and Vickie set themselves to the attack.


Vickie led the attack. She danced forward, making lightning fast attacks
to Mike's middle ring of defense. He picked the blows off with ease,
parrying each blow with the same speed she delivered them.

The music belied the attacks, playing gently as a counterpoint to the
attacks. Then, the Imperial March made its appearance.

In the duelers' minds, the AT-ATs landed on Hoth, and were sighted. Mike
went on the offensive, focusing on the point of his weapon. He tried to
lunge into Vickie, but each time she evaded at the last second.

The March faded, becoming the urgent, brass led escape piece. Mike did
just that, evading Vickie's lunges and hopping onto a crate as she
dived. He instantly tried to blank her sense to his presence, and sent a
loose spanner skittering away under a nearby X-Wing.

He waited.

As the harshness of the Imperial March cut back in, Vickie swung her
blade through Mike's legs, sending him toppling forward from the crate.

As the AT-ATs continued their march on the base, Mike hauled himself
back to his feet, reactivating his sabre as he did so. He looked around,
and saw Vickie sitting on the wing of Tycho's ship again.

He sighed, and grabbed hold of the edge of the wing. With a Force push
he pivoted up onto the wing, and launched himself at his opponent.

Vickie laughed inwardly as the battle they were staging now, more than
ever, matched the rhythm and flow of the music. She picked off Mike's
assaults easily, then, as he stumbled over the droid socket, slashed 
him across the back.

Mike fell to his knees as the music calmed. The strings took the lead,
and he took a breather. He spun back onto his feet, swinging the blade
low, but Vickie evaded the blow, bringing her own blade down towards
Mike's head. He dived out of the way, and found himself lying on Tycho's
canopy.

Vickie leapt, and landed astride him, her blade pointing at Mike's neck.

Before she could realize her mistake, he twitched his blade through her
ankle, and as she fell backwards, pushed himself into a forward roll.

The fighters stood before one another again, sweat stained and
exhausted, at opposite ends of the X-Wing's fuselage. In their minds,
the final AT-AT was bought to ground, and only Han and Leia were left to
escape Hoth base.

Vickie backflipped off the ship and landed hard on the floor. The fight
was finally beginning to wear her down. In her mind, she saw
Stormtroopers setting up blaster rifles and E-Webs. The Millennium
Falcon was being as stubborn as usual. She wished Leia had been there to
give her a push.

Mike landed in front of her and startled her. She skidded backwards,
nearly falling. She could tell he was tired as well. His swings, though
powered by the music, were much less.

She decided to try his own tactic against him. "You aren't tired, are
you?"

A sparkle lit up his eyes. "Not at all. What about you?" He was
breathing heavily.

"Nope, I'm just fine." She stumbled over a fuel line.

He slashed at her flailing form, only to trip over another line.

She regained her balance at the same time as he did. An image came to
her mind. She looked him in the eye and nodded.

They attacked, blocked, parried and maneuvered themselves out into the
open where everyone could see them. They both drew back their blades and
with their reserve strength, swung around. The blades crackled for a
moment before parting.

The combatants looked down at their empty hands. Their lightsabres flew
off in separate directions. Vickie dropped to her knees and began to
giggle.

Laughter is contagious. Mike leaned with his hands on his thighs. His
deep laughter echoed with hers. He fell to the floor beside her and gave
her a hug. "That has to be the most fun I have ever had in my entire
life."

"Me as well," she replied, still giggling. "I think we both could use a
shower and a good long meditation. What do you think?"

"I'm trying not to." He brought his breathing under control. "Thanks
again for catching me. And for the little 'lift'."

She shrugged. "We're competitors, not enemies. What lift?"

"With the Force to get me back on the wing."

"I didn't lift you."

"You actually did it yourself,"  Corran said as he walked up to the two
of them. "I am very impressed.

So, were you keeping score?"

They both looked at their Jedi Master and smiled. "Yeah, but we're not
telling who won." They fell to the floor laughing.