Dan gave a little chuff of hellish laughter as he watched Jacen move, apparently unconcerned about the other man’s battle-readiness. This was the consequence of giving in to his addiction. It wasn’t necessarily that the Spirit had control over him, but right now, Dan was running so high on the power that the idea that he might lose this fight hadn’t even crossed his mind. Instead of being concerned about Jacen’s armor or powers, Dan found the whole thing a little bit amusing. He was the right hand of God, the angel of wrath given form and flesh to mette out punishment to the guilty. What did one little space-wizard with a magic sword bother him? Especially one so corrupted as Jacen.
That was why he wasn’t immediately launching into an attack. In his right mind, Dan had fought too many battles to be dumb enough to let his opponent talk. He knew what other people thought about fighting, but in reality, talk was the most dangerous weapon anyone could have in a fight. Whether it was a distraction to give them time to plan their next move or an attempt to create a little empathy, talk could drastically alter the course of a fight. The problem, of course, was that Dan wasn’t in his right mind. So instead of immediately gunning his bike straight for Jacen, he let him speak, confident that there was nothing the Sith could say that would change anything. It was a foolish mistake, but he was too arrogant, too full of the feeling of his own power, to know it. So he let Jacen talk, and while the Spirit was untouched by the powers of the Force, the man was not so immune.
Jacen’s words reached him and for some reason, Dan almost found himself listening. Almost, but not quite. Maybe if he hadn’t been drunk, Jacen’s words could have reached his common sense or maybe if the rage of the Spirit wasn’t further diluting his judgment, but with both the booze and the rage overriding his senses, the words just weren’t quite able to find the home Jacen wanted. They did make Dan think, though, and right now the worst thing for Dan was thinking. Dan wasn’t sure what Jacen had intended with his speech, but all he got for it was more anger. There was the loud sound of air rushing out of a room as Dan’s flames burned brighter, plumes of it now shooting out from his sleeves. Though his skull could hold no expression, it almost seemed to grow angrier and more ominous. “Someone should pull out that serpent’s tongue of yours, Sith.”
And then he lifted his left hand from the handlebar of his hellcycle and a vortex of hellflame shot out, quickly forming into a spinning cone of chains, tipped with little spikes almost like thorns, aimed directly for Jacen. Though it moved fast, it wasn’t even remotely near Dan’s best effort. This was merely the opening volley of the storm.