[center][i]Requiem for a Dream[/i]
Part the Second[/center]

[i]Within the Grand Republic of Mandalore
Taris, the Spire-Enclave[/i]

Silence dominated the halls of the Enclave, only the intermittent buzz of shattered lighting and the breeze of the lower atmospheric wind breaking its hold. The smell of burned flesh wafted in the breeze, a slight tinge making it clear that they were blaster inflicted wounds, and very recent. Her back was to the pillar, one hand to the solid stone and another on her own blaster rifle. Carefully, she cast her senses outward from her emplacement, feeling around for her remaining men and trying not to alert her enemy. There. Across from her one of her men felt her attention and made a quick series of hand-signals. It was bad, they were three down and only the two of them were left standing against a force of eight. She nodded, and sent a mental confirmation to the clone, making ready to move to a better location. Seeing her ready for a move, he checked the action on his blaster and adjusted his stance to provide overwatch. A quick signal and she was on the move, keeping her footsteps light and accurate, careful to avoid broken glass and stay away from the light coming down from above. She was nearly across when a shot came from the rear of the hall, almost catching her in the ankle, but only grazing her. Eighty-Eight stepped out to fire a few rounds at the source, but caught a bolt to the chest and was down.

She moved on without him, knowing that to stop would do nothing but leave her in the same position. Movement alerted her to another presence and she pulled up her rifle to open fire, only too late realizing that she had walked right into out-flanking elements. Her blaster was slapped aside and the dark figure moved to bring their own blaster up, to which she retaliated with a kick into their midriff and caused them to drop the rifle. Both fighters went down to try and grab the fallen weapon, but her adversary was quicker to recover from their disarmament than she was to move on the opportunity. A sharp kick from the figure sent the weapon spiraling away from both of them and into the open where the enemy had overwatch, making the blaster completely out of reach. Cursing her luck, she drew her back-up weapon, igniting the cross-guard lightsaber and casting the shadows away from her opponent. Solace stood before her, reaching back to bring her own lightsaber to bear and readying her stance to defend against her sister's attack.

"Requiem." She stated simply, a slight grin on her face as she ignited the orange blade of the lightsaber-pike.

"Solace." The reply was hesitant, as she knew she was at a disadvantage in this battle, for Solace was more experience in lightsaber combat than she was, and had her exits well covered.

Without further words the sisters launched themselves at each-other, Solace leveling her pike for a brutal lunge at Requiem's midsection, forcing her to roll out of the way and make a haphazard slash with her cross-guard. Readjusting for the change in stance, she activated the lower blade and deflected another aggressive strike, spinning to come back with the primary blade only to catch the handle of the pike in the face. Reeling backwards, she ducked to the side to avoid another lunge and weakly brought up her blade to deflect a second lunge that was altered at the last moment to slash at her exposed side. She yelped as the blade bit into her side and quickly moved out of the way to avoid a second strike aimed at her opposite side. Solace picked up her aggressive strikes now that her sister was wounded, eager to end the battle. Requiem kept up her defensive strikes, and continued to move backwards and into the center of the hall, the previously hidden clones under her sister's command now coming out to encircle the duel.

Grimacing under the pain of the cauterized wound, she executed a quick series of strikes to keep Solace at bay, while she worked the force to knit the wound. Her sister would have none of that, however, and pressed her advantage, making several shallow lunges aimed at center-mass and following up with a kick to Requiem's shin. While she was able to fend off the lunges, she was not able to move in time to dodge the kick, catching it full-on and feeling the bone crack under the force of Solace's kick. She went down to one knee in pain, bringing her lightsaber up and keeping her profile minimized so as to guard against her sister's aggressive style better. It was not enough, however, as a quick jab with the pole-end knocked her on her back, and the follow-up swipe of the handle sent her lightsaber careening out of her grasp. Before she could move she found the handle against her throat and her sister close behind it.

With nothing else to do about it, she threw her hands up and Solace let off her. "Fine, I 'spose you got this one." she said with a pout, the disappointment evident in her voice. Solace responded only by helping her to her feet and clapping her on the shoulder. The clone troopers around her shouldered their blasters and moved to get things back into shape for public-access, a team of medics carrying Eighty-Eight and the rest of her team to the bacta-tanks so they could recover from her injuries. She felt at her side with her right hand, the dampness of her wound revealing that she had lost no small amount of blood despite it being rather shallow. "Hey.... You held back!" she exclaimed, now more indignant at the thought of her sister holding back, than the loss of the training exercise overall. Shrugging, Solace brushed off the accusation "You were outnumbered, had to make it a little fair sis." Still irritated, Requiem sighed and went to work on the wound, knitting it back together and working to increase the production of red-cells in her body to offset the loss of blood.

Once her wound was healed she set off for her own quarters, seeing that Solace had already done so and was likely getting ready for meditation. That of course, could not happen while she was up and about, and so she picked up her brisk walk, starting a slight skip and humming along as if the previous firefight had never happened. Of course, blaster marks on the wall would stand as a testament to that, but no one asked for their opinions anyways.