Soren parried, wrist jolting as Cassian came in hard and flat, not even pretending at flair. The noise of the fight faded at the margins. It was just the two of them, Cassian's breath short and furious, Soren's hands starting to numb from the cold.
Their blades locked. Soren twisted, using all his bodyweight, but Cassian was heavier. Instead, Soren let his blade slip past guard, taking the scrape across his knuckle in exchange for a shot at Cassian's collar.
The impact was clean. Protocols dictated the round was over, but Cassian didn't lower his blade for two heartbeats, and in that time Soren saw the shift, the recalculation, the surge of intent.
"We'll do this again," Cassian breathed, as the instructors blew the whistle.
Soren shrugged. "It's not personal."
Cassian's mouth twitched, almost a smile. "It will be."
