There is a bit of a spectacle further down the way, where the plaza opens into a courtyard among a litany of fountains and lovely plants. It is beautiful scenery, but the state of the business there is not so. The Banner of Organa flies here. It is a dueling flag, and by right of the laws and practices of the world, a duel is to take place. Armored men have taken position around a dark figure, while a lord twice her size pulls free his cloak and draws a sword.
"I will not stand idle while an enemy of the Republic parades about this royal plaza demeaning the very integrity of this world. Confound her, confound the Empire, and confound any and all who stand against this Republic. Draw your weapon dark lord, and be about this combat. I challenge you to a duel, and I will show my kin, this plaza, and the planet that the Republic will not be held hostage by some small woman in robes. Come on then.. "
The woman in dark robes pulled her hood back to reveal that she was Revan. Lord Organa drew his sword, and it rang distinct across the air, loud, and intimidating. Revan took a moment to decloak, pulling free the cape that was fastened, and dropping the heavy robe to reveal a more formfitting tunic. She was not armed, or did not seem armed. "May I ask, my Lord, your terms for this duel. If blood be spilled I want to know to what mercy I can expect you to offer should you disarm and defeat me."
"It shall be to first blood, Sith. And nothing more. Have you your weapon?"
Revan nodded. "Begin your attack my Lord, and humble me before my own." Lord Organa obliged and charged, swinging his sword down until it seemed as if he may attack, then stopped abruptly. "First blood, you say?" Revan asked, her lips perking into a slight smile. Lord Organa looked frightened in that moment, suddenly acutely aware he could no longer breath.
...Okay, The cafe can always come back. But a chance to come see Revan kick someone's shebs? That's something Tai's not going to pass up. Snagging her plate she heads over, cutting through the crowd with ease. This is gonna be good, and she's going to watch every single second.
The Abyssin grunt, a sound that emanates from deep within his chest, and reverberates like rolling thunder. But his attention, while it turns toward Rotas, does not stay captured by the other Acolyte. It, too, finds the scene that Revan puts out before them, and his single, vivid yellow eye dances and lights with unashamed delight and interest.
"Strong. Beautiful. Deadly." He utters in a growl to his Acolyte 'friend' (frenemy?) in the most praise he's probably ever given anyone, referencing Darth Revan, without shame.
No stranger to honor duels among her mixed and storied history, Meetra wouldn't really have blinked to much. But someone outwardly declaring their actions and intentions in a world that was meant to be neutral? That wasn't going to help things in the slightest. The treat she'd sought swiftly forgotten and her own small bag containing a gift falls from her grasp. Meetra's hand comes up to squeeze Resmi's on her shoulder in quick acknowledgement, but she was already moving through the crowd towards the drawing of weapons.
The banner of Organa and the lord did bring a little breath of relief exhaled, noone was excalating the war on their behalf right now...then she felt that presence through the force, the one that that Exile hadn't faced directly or felt since the days before she'd been driven to the unknown regions of space.
Her path takes the woman in the darker tunic, the black leggings and hair tied back right past the familier Abyssan, right past the gathered Sith and out to the edges of the duel where her eyes are left to grow wide. No mask, no robes? For a while that figure had been a name in reports and a memory.
"Revan..." she utters in barely a whisper, but with a clenching of her hands, she's left to speak again. "Revan! That is enough!"
"Yes. Yes, she rather is, isn't she." Rotas confirms an agreement to his hulking, Abyssin frenemy. Sith don't have friends, only allies, and rivals. Some times the two mix. As the duel is called for though, he moves towards the gathering crowd. Then there is the call that Meetra makes, his lips curling into a pleased smile. "It is a fair and honorable action to take, Master Jedi."
"After all, Lord Organa did not name use of the Force outside of the terms of the duel!" He announces towards the crowd, his attention swinging back towards the Jedi as his lips curl into a deeper, more satisfied grin. "Unless, of course, you wish to interfere with an honorable duel? Against a Sith Master?"
As she sees Meetra move and call out to Revan, Resmi, wanders up behind Meetra and then beside her and looks from Revan to the choking Alderaanian, then Resmi looks to Meetra... "The smaller lady there, that's Revan? I don't think I've ever seen her before... There anything I can do to help?" She asks curiously... Not that she can like run in and fight the Sith Lord, buuut there might be -something- she can do...
Resmi then glances to the gathered acolytes and such praising the Sith Lord adn tilts her head again as she studies them... She then asides again to Meetra.. "They find this butchery fascinating?"
"I think not, Meetra. It was not I who began this fight. This show of force. You will stay back and honor the law of Alderaan, or you doom your faction with the ire of their King." Revan states back for the first time with a voice of authority. Revan steps back, lowering her hand and her influence over Lord Organa falls. He cries out in anguish, his sword falling and following through with his first strike but it is air he hit, and sparks climb up when the metal grinds the stones!
Revan again, waving her hand. "You will command your men to hold back those that would interfere with our affair. Name it your decree."
Lord Organa turns his head slightly, as if the notion of Revan's command began to manifest in his mind like it was his own idea. "It is my decree!" He says, his voice raspy, "That this fight be unaccosted. I order you, men, keep those back who would dishonor the laws of the King. It is my fight! Mine alone!" He raises his sword, circling Revan. "There, you heard him, Meetra." Revan says, looking toward Surik with a dark look.
"Now stop talking about the fight and fight, Organa!" Revan side steps a heavy sword swing that spurns her hair in its pass, and strikes Organa in the stomach with her fist. It is not a devastating thing, but he stumbles. They circle.
Tai shoots the Exile a smirk as Revan shuts her down. Taking another bite of pastry, the Zabrak nods to her fellow Acolytes. "Most interesting thing I've seen around here so far. SHame there's nobody around who'd fall for a bet. We all know how this'll end."
The absolutely enormous Abyssin, who has fought Meetra before, lumbers forward, moving himself between the famed Exile and the dueling pair. "Not interfere," the Acolyte rumbles, his voice thunderous and low.
"Would have to stop." He explains, very simply and straightforward.
Attention drawn her way and Eosys stepping in her path, Meetra doesn't make to cut her way through. Instead it's the words from Rotas and Revan herself that bring a word from the woman. "It's not the fight," she speaks, her arms folding over her chest as she's left caught between a desire to intervene and a certainty of consequence. "This could be over in seconds, anything more is just...toying with him." For all Lord Organa might claim to support the Republic, there was far from any illusions that he might have a chance.
Still, Meetra takes no further step forward, instead moving to finally address the Abyssin Acolyte who'd once been the prisoner of the Republic. She doesn't step back, nor seem cowed by the frankly frightening sight lumbering before her. A shake of her head, her gaze moves back towards the ill-fated duel.
While Eosys moves between Meetra and the dueling circle... Of course Rotas moves along after his fellow acolyte, his lips curling into a deeper, more satisfied grin as Revan has the Lord Organa declare his will. "And -that- would be telling, wouldn't it? It was the Jedi, not the Sith, that lost their temper and started the war on Alderaan."
Though as Meetra laments the situation more, it simply draws an sickening, amused laugh from him and he rolls a shoulder in a loose shrug. "Then let the Lord Organa suffer for his poor decision. Challenging a Dark Lord of the Sith... He decided his fate."
Resmi looks between Meetra and the huge abyssinian curiously, and tilts her head "Sooo umm yeah, could you move that way." She says calmly, pointing toward the gathering of Acolytes...
She glances to the person mentioning about who started what war, and all the challenging dark lords and stuff. "And probably egged on and such... " She says and shrugs.. Then she sighs, she'll wait for Meetra to suggest what to do, but otherwise watches in a relaxed state of 'readyness' as it were...
The fight is under way, and the screams from the Lord detail just how well it is going for someone. Lord Organa swings his sword well, with practice, but Revan moves with an innate sense about where he intends to attack, leaving Organa to miss while she takes advantage of his position.
Ever the strategist, Revan strikes where it causes pain. First against his rib cage upon a kidney, then a second shot to the solar plexus making the Lord cast out what air he had in his lungs to wheeze pathetically and stumble away.
Weak kneed, he moves further from Revan who shakes one hand out and appears to be warming up. "Tired already, Organa. You haven't even landed a hit! Where is this righteous anger!? You speak of justice but cannot deliver it. Come. Rise Organa. Strike me down with the strength of your arm and sting of your sword!"
The Abyssin stares with his single eye down at the Exile, but it is neither of fear nor challenge- it most closely resembles incredulousness. "Yeah, toy with," he repeats, like this were obvious. And perhaps, to him, it was, given his gladiatorial past. "Show off skill. Give show." He explains, ever-so-patiently, as he steals glimpses of the duel.
What should they do? Meetra's gaze finally turns towards Resmi and she shakes her head. Turning her back on the Abyssin, she makes to step away from the sides and shake her head. What had she expected from the first time she saw the other woman again? The Jedi didn't even know. Instead she's left to glance at Rotas and then exhale a sigh.
"I find no amusement in a nexu fighting a gizka."
With that, she turns back towards the stalls of the plaza, but the desire for food? For Meetra it had clearly faltered.
While Resmi comments on being "egged on", Rotas snickers, apparently enjoying the display of the younger Jedi's dismay, and every that goes along with that. "Still teaching her, are you?" He comments, completely ignoring Resmi as his attention turns towards Meetra, as though something about the situation should be obvious.
For her comment towards him, he laughs wickedly, shaking his head. "That is where the Sith and the Jedi differ. We relish in our strength, in defeating our enemies..." Then he glances towards Resmi, his grin still frowning. "Learn that, Jedi. We will enjoy watching you suffer."
Resmi looks to Meetra and looks back at the fight, and back to Meetra then asides to the exiled master? or formerly exiled master, or whatever... "I Know how to heal a bit?" she offers and looks back at the fighting and massively overmatched Lord... She then glances back at the fight then to Rotas and tilts her head
Resmi pauses a moment, looking for words... "Kind of like a child pulling the legs off a leaf hopper? Where's the challenge? Is it just in the egging or the easy defeat? What have you leared? What has he learned short of. Rawr, Dark Lord of the Sith is powah full... NOthing is gained." She says simply and shrugs "Cept maybe, just maybe your emotional uplifting at having easily beaten an opponent who you know you could beat going into the fight? Again, how is anyone bettered at this? It's pointless showmanship... " she says...
Resmi is a bit mouthy too evidently.. She then motions to the noble. "So, she beats a Noble who had zero clue what he was getting into when he issued that challenge, knowing full well she was going to win in the first place, he had no chance." She then pauses again. "Seriously? I'm suffering from it? You're causing suffering all right, but I doubt it's me, it's him, it's you for demeaning your selves to the level of simple.. paultry.. thugs."
Organa charges with his sword high, but Revan moves from his path. He swings and misses, and she kicks out the back of one knee dropping him to it, then strikes his crook of his neck with a single blow dropping him like a sack of rocks. The fight is over, but Revan calls to the force with the rising of one hand, drawing the dropped Organa sword to her hand just as the Lord rolls to his back in the grass, staring up at the sky, blinking.
A skillful movement of the Lord's sword made by Revan plants it straight down. With her body in the way, it appears that she has slammed the sword into his face and pinned it to the ground; this causes the crowd to guffaw in utter surprise and shock.
However, upon closer inspection, the sword's blade has just barely touched the Lord's cheek producing a thin red line where blood begins to surface.
"I believe you allowed yourself to be cut, Lord Organa. I'm humbled you let me win." Revan offers her hand to the downed Lord to help him up, and he accepts it and brushes his hand over his cheek. "Just so." He replies, taken aback slightly. He takes command of his sword, appending it from the ground and passing it off to his men. "Well fought, Lord Revan." Revan bowed her head. "And you, Lord Organa."
The Abyssin looks... offended, a little, at Resmi's slew of words. But it's only a little- she was speaking with words too fast and too abstract for his simple brain to comprehend. "Showmanship reason itself," he tries to patiently explain to her, before he whirls, glimpsing the final few moments of the fight. Like any entertained audience member, he begins to loudly clap his approval.
"Clever words, spoken from a Jedi that is so poorly informed." Rotas retorts, his lips curling with a greater form of amusement. "Darth Revan was challenged by a Lord of Alderaan that needed to be reminded of the power of the Dark Side. Strength rule. Not just in combat, but in this. Tactics." He raises a hand, gesturing behind him towards the display behind him, just in time for Revan's victory, and then towards her.
"This Lord was at the mercy of the Sith, here and in front of the Jedi Order, who could do nothing to stop the 'show'." His lips curl into a deeper smile, both hands lowering down to be in front of him. "Ultimately, I look forward to what you are going to do about this."
With the duel over, the spectacle had drawn to a close. Revan was handed her discarded robe and cape and took the liberty of donning those items once more. With the final item, her cape, clipped back into place, the humble-looking female set to her earlier path leaving the Organas to their business and passing her loyal acolytes. She nods to them quietly, then continues up the stairs to court where business was to continue per usual. This was just another day on Alderaan.