Tatin felt the ripple in the Force. He'd never been very good with such non-combative applications of the Force, but as the Blademaster at Korriban had so pointedly made clear to him while flinging objects at Tatin's leaping figure, sensitivity to other's machinations in the Force were critical for any would be Sith.<br/><br/>And the control, or lack there of, of Taishari was far easier to detect, still the metal objects were hurling for the back of his head when his muscles sprang into action, he turned and jerked his body, his blade able to deflect one half of the metal pieces, but the other grazed the side of his face, not hard enough contact to even make him stumble, but enough to infuriate him.<br/><br/>A low, guttural snarl emanated from his lips as he turned his gaze unto Taishari. Slowly, ominously he stood to his full considerable height and cracked his neck, the pops loud, almost sickeningly so, as he felt the full brunt of the dark side, his dark side flow through him as he gripped the cool metal cylinder in his hands, his gauntlets pulsing with feeling as he advanced on the girl, his blade at his waist, horizontal, the blade off to the side in an unconventional version of the Djem So combat stance.