"Listen to Daisy about whether you can come back, if you want to, she'll know." She looks up again. "Here we go." She draws her 'saber as she makes her way back down the ramp, and drops the blur effect of the shield, beginning instead to radiate a sense of dark power.

"I will," he agrees. He stays up at the top of the ramp, saber in hand but not yet activated. 

And shortly, a ship approaches. While still in the air, someone leaps down from the cockpit, landing on the ground easily despite the long drop. The ship sets down some distance away, while the figure pauses, gazing towards the ship, the homestead, and the Sith standing between him and his fallen padawan. 

His saber drops into his palm, but he doesn't light it. Instead, he begins walking towards them, his pace slow and measured, seemingly in no hurry at all. 

She holds her ground, watching him come, 'saber lit but held low, threatening only by its presence; its hum masks her quiet, impatient growl.

It takes him a bit to reach her. 

He stops a short distance away from her, eyeing Alek wearily before turning the whole of his attention on the Sith. He doesn't move to attack her yet, instead he settles there, waiting to see if she will do so, saber held ready but still unlit. He exudes patience and serenity and surety - and the slightest tinge of disappointment, directed at Alek, of course, not her. 

The Jedi's calm is intensely creepy, and it's an effort of will not to show it. She waits, when he stops, still watching, for long enough to confirm that it's not just a feint. "I'm not going to let you have him," she says then, without preamble, voice pitched low.

"This is hardly your business, Sith," he points out mildly. "Unless you have claimed him as an apprentice." Though if she has, it will only become more urgent to neutralize the boy before he can learn what she has to teach. 

She scoffs a huff of genuine laughter. "Oh, that's not how this works at all."

"Is it not?" His gaze pans up to Alek, and then back down to her again. "I suppose I cannot stop you from stepping in if that is what you wish to do. Still," he produces a disappointed hum. "I cannot claim to have hoped he would have had the strength to turn his back on the Dark," he states, "But I had hoped he would know better than to turn to the Sith." 

(Up on the ramp, Alek is tense as prey under the gaze of a predator, his emotions a tangled mess - terror, anger, hurt, defiance, shame. His grip on his saber's hilt is tight enough to hurt.)

Pradnakt's amusement only intensifies. "He didn't. The Force knew where he should be." The tip of her 'saber sways a bit, not quite a threat but certainly a demand for attention: "Not that I expect you to understand."

"I'm afraid I will have to disagree with you on that, yes." He notes the movement of her saber, but does nothing with this information. It is not yet time to attack her himself, though if she attacks him he is as ready as he would be with his saber lit. 

His gaze goes back to Alek, "Would you really stand on the side of a Sith, Alek?" He calls out to him. "I can feel that the darkness has not wholly consumed you, yet it is only a matter of time. What will become of that which you so needlessly Fell to protect, then? Let me end it, my Padawan." 

Alek swallows, his eyes darting between his master and Pradnakt. He... isn't swayed by his words. The reference to Isk might have left him conflicted a few days ago, but... Pradnakt is proof he can learn control. 

"It wasn't needless," he states in return, "You sold them." 

Esche sighs, "I did what was necessary for our mission. We would have come back for Isk, if we could, you know that."

"Isk didn't want you to sell them, Master. And... And we would have been too late. He was already installing the restraining bolt when I got there. He would have wiped them before we got back."

"Isk is a droid, Alek," he says, weary. "Your attachment to droids has always been concerning," he acknowledges, "But even you must see that killing a sentient who was only doing his job was wrong. Droids are not truly sentients, Padawan, even if some may put on a convincing show of it." 

(Pradnakt's presence in the force flickers from amusement to rage, well-controlled but clearly present, looming, pure and strong. A disturbance in the Force at her left hand suggests a bolt of lightning aborted in the earliest stages of creation, but she doesn't interject, not yet.)

Alek's own emotions swing in that direction as well, anger overtaking the others which had been fighting within him before. He takes a half-step forward, but stops himself before he can move any farther. He'd promised to stay back.

He can't seem to say anything in return to his master's statement. His words are all tied up and refusing to come out in any sensible way. His fury rather speaks for itself, though, he thinks.

It does, yes. Esche's attention snaps back to the Sith when her emotions shift, his own presence flickering with wariness momentarily before returning to that steady calm.

"I see there will be no reasoning with either of you," he notes. He shifts into a ready stance, and flicks his saber to life, the bold blue blade humming into place. "I will go through you to complete my duty," he warns her. It won't pain him to do so, either. To rid the galaxy of another spot of darkness would be a privilege. 

She's closing from the moment his stance changes, moving fast, pouring fear onto him in a torrent, hoping to put him on the defensive.

It has some effect, shaking his equilibrium to some degree, but Esche is a veteran of many battles. He can hold his calm through worse than this.

Whether he is put on the defensive depends, given that he was already intending to start this duel off that way. He parries her first attack, and flows smoothly into a counterattack from there.

She doesn't let up; the fear intensifies somewhat, in fact, before settling into an oppressive constant. Meanwhile she parries and slashes at him again, trying to push him back from the ship.

The additional fear allows her to push him back a few paces, before he comes to terms with it. He does not intend to move farther away from his goal than this if he can help it, though. And he can do a great deal to help him in this goal. He is not called a blademaster for nothing. 

She does try to push him a little farther, but switches to a more defensive approach when he doesn't budge, apparently feeling him out.

After a minute she whistles as she strikes, to no immediately obvious effect.

Well, that's odd. While parrying he turns some attention to his surroundings, trying to figure out who she might have been signaling. Alek still hasn't moved, though he's tense with the effort of holding himself in place in the entrance to the ship. There's no one else around for some distance, as far as he can tell.