The burning plains of Musafar are never quiet, continuously rent apart by the competing naturees of lava flow and the tender, fragile, nonflamable ash that serves the planet as a substitute for soil.

Even so, there are some things that draw a shroud of silence about themselves, and the climax of this particular confrontation is one of them. For an instant that stretches unendurably long, the background clamor stills and the two humanoids are the only things that move.

"It's over Anakin. I have the high ground."

Vader briefly considers jumping. Briefly. It's almost certainly suicide, for anyone but Yoda, and even at his best, most rested state, he's no Yoda.

But then, he doesn't want to be. He has a plan, a much better plan than relying on the flippancies of Ataru.

There is more than one way to skin a tusk-cat, after all.

He sends a force strike at the fragile ash Obi-wan is standing on, breaking his focus and distracting his attention from the second strike following it in rapid succession curved around at his back as he fights for balance.

Vader only has to bring up his blade and angle it just so to finish the fight.

He smirks as he pulls it from Obi-wan's chest, allowing his hilt to drop and roll down the incline.

"Now it's over, Master."