Myrkr

[Joreel Ordo]

((Hendricks I should tell him that you are using his name in an RP.))

 

Hartel scoped out his new world for a moment, the new advanced targeting system which came in front of him much like a HUD on any starship or even his Mandalorian Helmet. This however was more advanced feeding off signals from his brain his true desire and needs to accomplish his goal with maximum efficiency. The gaze was still the same and all the targeting reticules and bio-measuring units on the peripherals of John's vision were opaque and did not set him at a disadvantage of not seeing things when they came. This could prove to be a most useful tool even if there should come a time Hartel retires from the Order.

 

Such contemplations were out of the question for this moment and thus Hartel proceeded to a training area which had shown up as a message on the side of his display and led him to it with specific directions which played in his ear and in text upon his vision. As odd as Hartel thought it was to be seeing the world in what looked like a video game he soon became accustomed to the interface as he walked through the Halls of Mykyr with it allowing himself to not go directly to his objective to learn more uses of his new piece of technology.

 

When the Mandalorian arrived at the training arena he saw a fog filled room, steamy, and slimy but at the same time, dead, crisp, and in all essence evil, it was a small portion of what he sure was to test his system's strength in all weather conditions. Hartel smirked as he took off his helmet and allowed his long black hair to flow down his back as he looked into the graveyard type area allowing his HUD to try and spot anything out there.

 

A short flick of the mind and the vision switched to a thermal display which was inconsequential as nothing was there, no heat signatures could be seen and thus the Mandalorian wen ton leaving his Helmet at the door to see how he could proceed without its use.

 

The first step triggered it all and the Mandalorian's mind raced in the short fire fight which erupted from that point. He was quick to draw up his two blaster pistols and aimed them easily toward the short emerging targets armed with small swords and shields, some with blaster carbine, and others with rockets...Dark Troopers. The feared robotic army of the Empire.

 

The sensors on John's HUD went into a frenzy displaying pop ups to dodge here, move this way, there are 11 enemies, fire at the central control cluster on the neck. The messages were mostly visual ones though a small voice spoke them into his ear as well, perhaps it was not as loud so that if he were in a situation with comrades he would be able to hear their orders and needs. The Mandalorian fired at 3 of the Phase I's which had the Sword and Shield combination. Each blaster bolt was deflected by the shield of the droid and it started to charge at Hartel with the use of its jetpack.

 

Hartel however was more clever than this. He threw his now pointless gun in his left hand at the droid making it lift up its shield to protect its face before the end of its contract came. The sizzle of burning wires came and an ominous purple glow filled the room. Hartel had decapitated the Dark Trooper with his lightsaber and he did not stop his barrage there. Messages continued to be flung at him, each one going off the Mandalorian's own body structure for capability such as his speed and strength in order to propel himself across the room without the use of the force.

 

Something that would have made Hartel's job much easier would have been the guidance the Force provided him in times of battle, and now that he had been divorced from it when he entered the system he had to return to his Mandalorian principles without that boost of life he had before.

 

The blaster and lightsaber went into action and the HUD had assimilated to the use of the lightsaber as well even providing a target area for Hartel to swing it so that he could deflect blaster bolts and slice his enemies crucial systems with much more simplicity. It did not take very long before the battle was over and the sparking pieces of the Dark Troopers littered the room. Hartel smiled and turned his back on them picking up his helmet and left the room satisfied with his new technology.

 

His only complaint was that the messages seemed to be too frequent and he seemed to lose his train of focus during the battle, but this was excusable next to the things other uses to the Jedi Knight.

 

He went into the front hall where he heard a sermon from Master Aryian who seemed annoyed with the majority of the Special Ops group but Hartel was interested in this development of using his skills in a non-force environment as he had to do so on Haruun Kal during his duel with Duo and it had not been a pleasant experience on his part.

[Ary the Grey]

((PFF...I got the name from somewhere else. Erik just popped up at random. I didn't get it from him...lol.))

 

((NPC))

 

As the majority of the group moved off towards the adjoining Dojo room, the Major noticed someone else trailing the main group, the Mandalorian, one of the Jedi. Curious that after all these years a Mandalorian would choose to become a Jedi. Still, he understood the Mandalorian Culture, and respected it for what it was. It was more than bloodthirsty savages, a long line of tradition and heritage. They were proud, and rightfully so. Silently, Erik fell back a bit, picking up step next to the Mando.

 

"They say...Verd ori'shya beskar'gam. Is that why you're here? To go beyond your beskar'gam? To fully explore your potential? Or are you merely here to glean what you can from the Jetii, learn their secrets, and then leave..."

 

He waited a few seconds as the Mandalorian was slightly shocked by his words, someone else who knew and understood Mando'a. Erik spoke again, answering the obvious question.

 

"I had an old friend...a vod, if you will. He instructed me in the ways of your people. But that was before I joined the Alliance. It will be good to fight a Mando'ad again. Your people have a vigor unmatched."

[Nitestrike]

As the group broke off towards the Dojo, Brad attempted to stay towards the outskirts of the group. He inched his way slowly forward as they walked, attempting to subtly reach Aryian. With a little use of precise footwork, he managed to reach the head of the group without disrupting anyone else. "Aryian," he said quietly, hoping only himself and Aryian would be the one's able to hear the conversation. "Do you mind if I go up against you for this dueling thing?"

[Joreel Ordo]

"If you must know Major, I was with the Dar'Jetii before I departed to join the ranks of the Jetii after learning of the disgusting horror that the Dar'Jetii present to the galaxy. I came here to better myself for the glory of the universe and my clan to which I am the last remaining survivor of, the rest were killed in the great purge of the Mandalorians years ago."

 

The Mandalorian looked at the man with ease. He had not heard Mando'a in a while and the words were softening to his ears. The constant use of basic had drained him of some of his closer ties to who he was and this was surely a revelation for him. The prospect of battle even more enduring.

 

"And we must see to that battle, though I do admit my skills with a lightsaber are a bit perverted without the use of the force. Perhaps one day, if you practice long enough with me, I can grant you into my clan and you may become part of the Mandalorian culture that is on the brink of extinction, what say you to that Major? You teach me lightsaber combat without the force, I make you a Mandalorian."

[Ary the Grey]

Aryian looked over to Brad with a wry grin on his face.

 

"Sure you can, if you want, but the Major back there is teaching the classes. I don't know when we'll get to the lightsaber part, as I understand Martial arts will be first."

 

((NPC))

 

Major Hendricks stopped walking at the last comment, leaving the Mandalorian to stop and turn. There was a pained look on the Major's face, as if he had just had a bad nightmare all over again.

 

"I appreciate the offer, my burc'ya...however I must decline. I'm not worthy of such an honor...and I doubt you'd want a hut'uun such as myself in your clan. There is still much you don't know about me, and much that I still hesitate to reveal to the closest of friends. Suffice to say I still reside in my own dar'yaim. Now...let us go to the Dojo..."

 

Hendricks began walking again, leaving the rather stunned Hartel behind. Though it was a minor insult to refuse the offer, it was clear the Major knew what it meant and had a very good reason for saying what he just said.

 

When everyone was inside the Dojo and assembled in a semicircular fashion, the Major again began speaking to the group.

 

"What we're going to learn now, as said before, is a certain form of Martial arts. The base movements are those that the Echani culture developed, however we will also be learning a few movements from the Rattataki and the Mandalorian cultures. Pay close attention, as these could easily save your life one day..."

 

The Major began lecturing and demonstrating the various movements, every now and then choosing someone at random to be his demonstrative assistant, yet strangely enough he never picked Hartel...

[Talon]

It took Talon longer than the others to become proficient enough with the blaster. Many of them seemed to whiz through it, while Talon took painstakingly slow steps. Yet, practice greatly improved his success rates. In fact, he got to be adequate enough to even be successful without the use of his advanced HUD targeting-reticle. Of course, he would by no means ever prefer this crude, long distance drill to the more honorable, close range combat of dueling. But he could hit the blind side of a barn now if he had to.

 

In a pleasant turn of events, however, an older ”˜retired' soldier joined the group as a kind of semi-instructor to the group of Jedi commandos, and he directed the squad away from the shooting range to a dojo a few rooms over.

 

This was certainly more of Talon's scene. The Jedi Master prided himself on his skill in a duel, with or without a blade”¦ Of course now he would have to, in essence, relearn all that he previously had. With the Force, it was easy. It told him how to move and where to go and what to do. Now he had to do the work himself. He would have to learn to read opponents, judging them by their body language and the like.

 

In this manner, he was now an equal with those around him. But Talon was much more confident in this arena than in the last.

 

And the training began”¦

[Ary the Grey]

After nearly three hours of pure instruction on various moves and combinations, as well as learning the main tips to seeing where the opponent would strike or move next, the Major was beginning to grow weary of the constant talking man. It was certianly not his forte, as a few of the others present could tell when he tried describing a few things. Eventually, though, they got through the first part of it. Still in the instructional semicircle, he again spoke, though this time with renewed will and confidence.

 

"Right. Well, it's time to test what you've learned from me. Jedi Knights Brad Warren and John Hartel will fight each other, and Master Talon will fight the newcomer I was informed of, Aryian's apprentice. This leaves Master Aryian with me, yes?"

 

Aryian looked up from his concentration of trying to remember what he had learned, speaking up.

 

"Actually, Major Hendricks, if you don't mind, I'd like to face off with Brad there. I have an inkling he'd like to do the same, okay?"

 

The major scratched his head for a second, rethinking the pairings. He was thrown off a bit, though he couldn't refuse a request from the master Jedi.

 

"Ah. Um...sure thing. Okay then, how about Aryian and Brad, Talon and Aryian's apprentice...which leaves John to me."

 

He stiffened as he realized what he just said, it wasn never his intention to fight with or next to a Mandalorian ever again, and yet here he was. This was bound to be an unusual experience...

 

Meanwhile, Aryian walked over to one of the padded dojo floors, assuming the low beginning Echani stance most associated with defense, Aryian's forte. He waited for Brad to begin instead of attacking as soon as Brad was ready, further denoting his preference. He was not above quickly moving on the offensive, however, as he had carefully paid attentiion to several of the meaner Rattataki grapples and attacks.

[Scorso Redentore]

Blur. Find definition... Find it...

 

There

 

Life distinguished itself from the obscured smear it became. Worn hands had seen the passing of a rifle, a pistol, and had dropped them just as soon within a matter of minutes. Now his digits wrapped themselves around nothing more than the fleeting air, clenched fists impatiently shaking. The mind could only absorb so much instruction before its descent to indolence left such instruction fruitless. Such prolonged directions in the ways of unarmed combat lulled Scorso into such languor, his nostrils sampling the intoxicating aroma of dreams.

 

As the seamless forms of his fantasies took hold once again within the incipient forms of his companions, it appeared that the lesson had almost finished. While it was always noted in the man's mind that a lost lesson was lost time, his confidence was bolstered by the marginal prowess already attained in Teras Kasi and the moderate training he received in the arts of ground martial arts tactics.

 

It was revealed to him that his partner for the practice session would be one who the padawan had never met before. The very pores of this man's skins exuded an aura of respect, refined power that lay with a corporeal sheath. Merely the man's ambience, the atmosphere that parasitically clung to his every contour was enough for the one to form something far more accurate than a baseless judgment of character. This man was a jedi, and all those factors proved that he should be respected.

 

Should...

 

Scorso lowered his center of gravity as he pressed his left heel outward in his stance. His right toes pointed carefully toward the man before him, his weight traveling to the man's foot. With but the simplest, unremarkable tilt, the padawan had achieved a state of near absolute balance. Any concussive force that found its way to his front would find itself unable to knock him over. It was his back that he was worried about. His left fist stretched itself outward while his fight hand formed a crescent moon, each pointing toward the man. As he rolled them to his sides, his trunk leaned forward in a slight bow.

 

”œI'm ready,”

[Talon]

The teachings of the Major were long and intensive. Yet, on the same token, they were oral and lackluster. Talon, being a martial artist, was already familiar with the cultures of the warrior races. Similar to his own dueling styles, the Echani were graceful beings. They moved with a regal fluidity, merging each attack with the last and the next in an unmatched harmony. The Rattataki, by contrast, were violent and ruthless- killing on their homeworld simply to survive another day. Their powerful attacks were direct, unsurpassed in their ferocity and viciousness. The Mandalorians, in a league by themselves, were honorable yet unforgiving. They were warriors by nature- surviving as a culture for thousands of years.

 

It was good to learn a number of their techniques, but it was only Talon's rigorous discipline (provided by his Jedi training) that allowed him to stay focused. Real learning came from experience, and experience was what they were presently being directed into.

 

”œI'm ready.”

[Scorso Redentore]

No time to analyze

 

Reality ebbed and flowed at whim, never settling upon stability

What was calm at once grew to a test of abilities

A leaping figure, shrieking clawed extremities

All mangled together, allies temporary enemies

 

Myrkr shook itself from its slumber for the first time within Scorso's imperious orbs. After assuming a defensive position, the jedi master swiftly assumed the predatory position. A hand launched outward at his chest, the balled fist becoming a fleshy hammer that sought to erupt its potent force. Perhaps this would be an interesting bout if he were going to play right into the apprentice's hand.

 

Don't analyze. No time to analyze. Instinct...

 

Years of techniques flooded not to his mind, yet sprung themselves into fluid action. A simple cross step trailed itself in a line in front of him breaking his stance slightly. The sacrifice was of footing was every bit necessary to draw momentum for what his body wished. Like synapses rapidly receiving their currents one after the other, so did each motion subsequently follow the next. Just as the front foot moved left, Scorso drew is arm out to his right, hinge slightly bent.

 

All that he had time to do was lick his lips, the tongue passing over the miniscule crevices and then receded back into his mouth. It was compulsory, involuntary. His right leg now moved back to regain stability, swinging it over with all the inertia of the before movement. And then...

 

Crash

 

He shot his left arm to join his right in but an instant as the two limbs cross-blocked Talon's strike. Defense should be as offense: unrelenting. No maneuver should be made for the sole purpose of temporary survival, yet it should bear with some objective to fit one's own means. Make them play your game. Make them play. They will lose.

 

Such a shot nearly invariably caught opponents off balance, as was the intent of the strike. Being that he was already in a sideways motion, he was able to avoid the mass heading toward him unscathed. Now all he had to do was follow up with one of the many techniques within his mind. He just had to unlock them, unleash them upon the battlefield. His body would speak to him.

 

Right, left, elbow.

 

Scorso's fists wailed themselves toward the opponent in practiced strikes, speed far more important than anything else. He'd follow those two strikes, pending their results, with a swinging right elbow. The combo would take less than a second.

[Talon]

While not yet a true Jedi, Scorso was not unfamiliar to the verses of combat. He brought proof of this with his first counter- a sidestep and a cross-block. Already, he was trying to manipulate Talon's own movements, to position him just where he wanted. Given time to contemplate it, Talon would have respected the padawan's straightforwardness. He wasted no time with undue flair; he had an objective, and he sought to complete it. Simple and effective”¦

 

Under the circumstances, however, Talon was not worrying himself with unnecessary distractions like this. Just as when he had access to the Force, he was allowing the flow of battle to consume him. His focus was on the tiniest of details: the position of his opponent's feet, the speed of his opponent's hands, the reaction time of his opponent's mind. The fight was still young, but the first hints of adrenaline began to make their affects known. His senses were keener. His perceptions were truer. Such was the purpose of Talon's opening move: to test out his opponent. Scorso Redentore was an unknown. Not only had the Jedi Master never fought him before now, he had never seen him fight. His style, his strength, his cleverness: it was all a mystery waiting to be solved.

 

Talon had quite literally stumbled upon the first clue.

 

Of course, such a powerful lunge detracted from balance on his own part, and he would surely pay. Sure enough, as he spun again to face his aggressor, a lightning fast jab connected with his torso, and as soon as the first was gone, another was inbound.

 

It was at this point that he noticed how much slower his reflexes had become, and it was a painful reminder of his separation from the Force. Yet, that was the reason the Jedi Master was here. He was breaking the habit of instinctively reaching out. It was both a blessing and a curse, and if he didn't learn how to control it now, he probably never would.

 

Luckily, his natural reflexes were keen enough to intercept Scorso's second blow. With his right arm he blocked Scorso's left, and caught it in an intertwined grasp. A right elbow surprised him in the side, nearly knocking the air from him, but Talon's next plans were already in motion. Using the momentum of his previous counter, he pivoted on his right foot, and in one motion he lodged his left leg on the outer edge of Scorso's and likewise planted a firm elbow strike into his side, trying to both trip him and knock him flat.

[Nitestrike]

Brad had a lot of previous combat experience, and could read his opponents moves before, but he doubted the success he would have without the Force. Always in battle he let himself fall into the Force, and let the massive energy field aid his actions. This was going to be a strange, and probably awkward, match up without the Force to aid him. Nevertheless, Brad got into an offensive stance similar to one he would use with his lightsaber.

 

Brad began a steady advance, attempting to feint his movements and throw Aryian off guard. When he fought with a lightsaber, he was always attempting to throw his opponent off. It was a bit more difficult with the glowing blade of pure energy, but Brad felt he was doing alright. He focused his eyes on his opponent, making sure he wouldn't look to see where he was striking so he wouldn't give himself away. This threw his movements off a little, because usually he could feel his movements with the Force.

[Ary the Grey]

As Aryian and Brad sparred, there were several moments where Aryian held the upper hand, and several where Brad seemed to be in the dominant position. Though throughout the bout, Aryian had looked for an advantageous opportunity to grapple and pin him, and finally found one, as Brad lunged forwards to punch him, he twisted, pulling the arm in while going to the outside of the punch, coming around behind Brad to lock his arms firmly under Brad's own and his hands behind his head, meanwhile one of his legs moved in between his opponent's to complete the hold.

 

He only held it for a second before releasing it, allowing the two combatants to begin again. An hour or two passed as the group went at it, several people winning, and several losing streaks as well. After a while, it began to grow old, and the major sensed it as well.

 

((I'll let John post a post, then we'll move on to saber training.))

[Joreel Ordo]

The Jedi Knight was surprised to notice he had been paired with the Major for this exercise, he seemed reluctant to even look toward John. And now he had no choice. As the floor cleared of everyone else it was left to Hendricks and Hartel. John proceeded to strip off his weaponry and set it aside allowing it to be only his armor and his cape. His spread each leg apart and set one of his hands forward in one of the more basic of Mandalorian attack settings. His the other hand rolled back and was there to allow him to shift his form at any given moment. Hartel had been trained in the many forms of Mandalorian Combat to proficiency as any future Lord was expected to know them.

 

He stepped forward and allowed his green eyes to pierce in the direction of his opponent and awaited him to strike.

 

Rule One of Mandalorian Combat:

 

The strong will be courageous enough to attack you. Await their call and take advantage of their weakness.

[Charon]

Stephen left the medbay after a blaster explosion had nearly cost him his hand. He proceeded to the landing pad where his X-wing sat, he slowly climbed into it and punched the route for Gala into his hyperspace computer and flew off into space and a short time later into hyperspace.

[Ary the Grey]

((First off, I'd like to list a few excuses for my absence, since it is rather inexcusable for the master of ceremonies (if you will) to be absent in the middle of the grand finale. However, I'm down at my parent's house, I've been doing things with them, spending time with them and not glued to my computer, trying to find out how they've been since last may or so, which was the last time I saw most of them (There was a little hiccup around Sept. 1st or so, but that was a one-day thing and I saw literally nobody.) Anyways, On with the show, as they say, try not to let my absence stop you from continuing on with the lesson plan. Most of you know the routine by now, what we intend to do, all I really have to do is post the specs on the Ilum base, which I do have...=P

 

Also, nice to see you back Bladesman. Hell...nice to be back.

 

Anyways, Happy holodays and Merry Christmas and Happy Hannukah/Chanukah and New Year, April fools and all that good stuff. Let's write!))

 

((NPC))

 

Hendrics was well aware of the rules of Mandalorian combat as he saw Hartel do exactly what he expected him to do, take a nearly impenetrable defensive stance reminiscent of the Mandalorians of old, waiting for Hendrick's own strike. It was a basic stance, true, but in the Major's experience, and no doubt Hartel's as well, it's impenetrability came from it's versatility, in that it could be used as the base stance to connect any number of movements together to create a devastating defensive wall, or conversely, reversed into a dangerous offensive.

 

The whole thing depended on the experience and know-how the two had to offer each other. Confident in himself, the Major chose an especially wicked Rattataki high kick following through into a sweep, yet in seconds found himself on the floor in a painful hold, his leg being held in a pressure hold and slowly being bent back towards his head. However, it was gone almost as sudden as it came, Hartel releasing him swiftly. It was, after all, a simple sparring match.

 

But for Hendricks, it left a stunning reminder of what had happened in the past, what had stained his soul black those many years ago. And time and time again during that fatal period, he had relapse after relapse of the one battle where he had lost a friend, an enemy, and the rest of sane life as he truly knew it. The military was all he had left, and he knew it, the Mandalorians would never again call him friend again should they know his true identity.

 

After a few hours of being beaten around by his partner, the Major had had enough. He signalled wearily for a stop Calling them together for the outbriefing, covering several critical points in ther moves orally once more, then released them to their duties.

 

((Aryian))

 

Aryian slapped Brad's back, the sweat on his brow glistening in the glowlamp's light. It was a tough skirmish he put up, though if asked about it while out of his presence, Aryian would probably note jokingly that he trounced Brad, though the opposite could easily happen as well. It was good he was known as a lighthearted guy for the most part, usually by the elder Knights and other Masters who had known him in his youth, and not by his padawans or other hopefuls. He could be friendly and serious on the flip of a credit chit, that was the nice thing about it.

 

"Well, you certainly gave me a run for my credits there, Brad, you've earned your bread today, I suppose."

 

He chuckled at his own statement before moving off towards the laboratories, intent on producing for himself a few new weapons before the next session. Once in the lab, it was easy to find the right tools and begin work, the supplies more than enough to finish in record time, even for a Jedi Master.

 

Normally, it was the supplies that limited the amount of time it took for a lightsaber to be built, or the ceremonious way the elder lightsabers were built, as a literal extension of the soul. Long ago, Aryian had shunned that method of lightsaber creation, for when the lightsaber was destroyed, so was a bit of your soul. And eventually, that small bit could erode away, leaving nothing but blackness in it's wake. And Aryian already had enough blackness in his past to not want to invite more of it.

 

He got to work with quick speed, finding several basic hilt casings to begin with, as well as a long pole. Eight droids entered the room, each with spindly arms meant to aid in this kind of work. He sent commands to them through his implant, beginning work on six different lightsabers at once, yet only five design types.

 

((NPC))

 

As the Jedi students began to disperse after the lesson, the Major called the Mandalorian over, not looking him in the eye.

 

"Listen...I...I owe you an explanation. Let's get a drink...I could use one."

 

The Major rubbed his sore muscles as he said that last part, sure that it would also ease his mental pains.

 

((Aryian))

 

Time flew like nothing as Aryian mentally controlled the droids, doing what he loved by building circutry and working with technology. Two of the lightsabers he built were built in the tonfa-style, small handles jutting out of the main hilt at a ninety degree angle made them a much more dangerous weapon to wield, as the wielder had a greater advantage with both agility and strength of blows and defenses. Both of the blades were orange, an odd color as he had used shards from a Katanii Lifecrystal, which were a dark blue.

 

The other four, however, were not so much for battle as they were curiosities of his. He had managed to split the power beam on one hilt into two emitters using tiny reflector crystals, the same kind used in a curved hilt lightsaber. The result was one hilt with two lightsaber blades coming out of one end nearly two inches apart, the size of a large broadsword, and the added advantage of being able to catch another lightsaber blade between the twin blades and flipping it away from its user. Of course, the upper part of the hilt between the emitters (And the shielding of the emitters themselves) was constructed from a small amount of phrik they had, rendering it impervious to another lightsaber blade. Both of the blades were a light yellow, reminiscent of the crystal he had used for it, a yellow Diamond he had found lying around Borleais, supposably from the Hapan system.

 

 

The fourth lightsaber he had built was actually inside the end of a pole he had built, lined with the purified cortosis that had the ability to completely shut off the blade. If used in battle enough, eventually the COrtosis would erode, which is why a layer underneath (And a layer around the lightsaber section itself) was the cotosis-durasteel alloy so familiar with experienced Jedi, not able to completely shut off a blade, yet stop it. The core itself was a lightweight duranium alumasteel, tough enough to resist any vibrosowrds, yet light enough to still be wielded in battle relatively fast. The blade on this one was a pure green.

 

The fifth lightsaber he had constructed was in fact the one that had caused the most time to construct, as it was the hardest. The alignment for a curved-hilt lightsaber was the most difficult to perfect, and without the Force Aryian had a difficult time using the sensors on the droids to make do. In the end, though, it did work, the blade a smoky grey haze. an interesting offshoot of the one he was going for, another silver one, yet it was still a good color, and rare.

 

The last blade, the one that took slightly less time to complete, was one he would have to definitely spend more time with later, and would also be the new one he would wear in public, though his older two would definitely be a feature in a secret pocket inside his robes. It was a normal one-bladed lightsaber, with a sky blue balde, however the hilt itself was adorned with a golden substance, known as electrum to those who knew what it was and what it meant. It was a symbol as much as it was his weapon, and later he would bond with it much more closely after he was off of Myrkr, where the Ilum crystal he had used could really shine to its full glory.

 

He clipped the electrum saber deep in his robes and the curved hilt and tonfa hilts onto his belt, the other sabers he had taken to his ship. Finally finished, Aryian walked to the dueling arena where they just were, preparing himself mentally for their next lesson set. He knew lightsaber combat, he knew it well. He was just slightly afraid of how much he depended on the Force.

 

Through the implant he called the other Jedi back to the arena, gathering them again for the next lessons.

 

((I'll wait for Hartel to post once in reply to the Major, I'll explain everything to him in the same post and then move to the arena/begin the lesson. Everyone else can make a spacer post doing something or making a lightsaber if you'd like, this base is ideally suited for weapons and lightsaber development, or just say you stood around in the arena for a few hours, though that'd be kinda silly. Just go back to the Arena in a timely manner by John's post.))

[Scorso Redentore]

Meet the ground

 

Slicing through air with a whistling screech

Mass falling indolently to the floor

Pulsating breaths skipping

A visit to Pain's broad shore

 

Meet the metal plane

 

A bang across the back

Flattened, no contour to find

A mistake, an error

Look forward, nothing behind

 

Meet the cold floor

 

Flutter of the eyes, let clarity reign

Amethyst orbs shatter disdain

Focus replenished. Once more sane

Make haste Make haste

Or meet thy bane

 

Scorso's legs threw themselves deftly in a guard around Talon's left leg, gripping it with ravenous fury. Instincts guided his right even quicker around talon's right side, forming a text book full guard. Such a position was the safest position upon the grounds for one to work, where a fallen warrior found refuge and salvation. Innumerable techniques, permeated into the muscles of the weathered martial artist, surfaced in his mind.

 

Move your leg over and snap his arm

 

Pull him in close with a guillotine choke

 

Pull him down for a triangle

 

Inflict an Americana and Kimura upon him simultaneously

 

Knee lock

 

Shoulder lock

 

There were just but a few of the scenarios that ran through his mind. However, before Scorso knew it, they were called to stop this. All was a blur; the two engaged in an affair so intoxicating its hypnotism took hold of his thoughts far too quickly. They were graceful predators, fluid movements flowing evenly as contrasting styles formed a dance far more beautiful than the mind could choreograph.

 

Now Scorso had to construct a saber, which seemed like it would be a rather simple feat compared to the harsh trials that many learners endured for the mere fact that materials were provided to him. He traveled to a desk, his hands furiously manipulating what he was given in order to construct his blade. However, in an environment where the force was but myth and a shroud of numbness had drenched the lands, one would puzzle what exactly assured this young figure that his movements were correct.

 

Perhaps...

[Ary the Grey]

As Scorso worked, an astromech droid rolled up to him, obviously sent from the hangar. It handed him a lightsaber, instructing it was for him to use temporarily until his master said otherwise. These environs were no place to properly construct one's first lightsaber, in the absence of the Force's warm embrace.

 

No other instruction cam with the little astromech, as it to had recived its message and orders from another droid who delivered a package to the hangar. Aryin had not seen Scorso since the last lesson, but he had foreseen the problem of him with no saber. It didn't take the Force to predict that...

 

EDIT:

 

While he waited, Aryian fiddled with a terminal, hosting something on the Holoet from an untraceable routeas well as sending an untraceable encrypted comm through the same channels.

[Talon]

Talon took in long breaths of air at the end of their spar to regain his composure. Without the Force, his duel with Scorso left him surprisingly more tired than it would have- indicating that in a longer fight he would not have the same endurance as he normally would. The Jedi Master reminded himself to start a rigid regimen of training exercises everyday to get this body into better shape.

 

For now, however, the group of Jedi were taking a small break, until their next lesson. The long day had left him a little worn out, so Talon decided to instead head for a café to get a small bite to eat.

 

Unfortunately, the base was so new that it had yet to be stocked with full provisions, and all they could muster for him was a couple of tasteless protein bars. Talon, however, had run on worse before, and he gratefully accepted the meager meal.

 

As he chomped on the solid bars, he used his chip to contact Zee. The droid had finished exploring the base, and now (because of the chip linking them) the both of them were as familiar with it as if they had lived there for many months. It was a state of the art facility, bustling with the latest technologies. It would have been a slicer's paradise. Yet it must have cost a fortune to build. A sense of gratitude fell upon the Jedi's mind, and of hope. The Jedi were finally caring about something. It was about time”¦

 

After finishing his small snack, Talon made his way to the weapon's area. Aryian was busy at work, using 6 droids to create a number of lightsabers. Talon dared not interrupt; the concentration it must take to simultaneously work on that many lightsabers- without the Force, no less- must have been enormous. Instead he simply watched, intrigued with the designs his fellow Jedi Master was putting out.

 

Talon himself already had a number of lightsabers. In fact, he still carried at his side his very first. Like one that Aryian was now creating, it was electrum plated, in the fashion of Mace Windu's. It melded to his grip perfectly, and it's fiery, golden-orange blade still took great pleasure in slashing down enemies. His other two were twins, of the fencing variation. Usable singularly, dually, or attached, they too, in all their carmine fury, were formidable foes. Perhaps later, when he was granted a higher level of concentration through the Force, he would build another, but for now the need escaped him, and he was content simply to watch.

 

After a time, however, the group was called back together in the sparring room, and Talon took his leave to return”¦

[Sasori]

[DELETE]

[Joreel Ordo]

((I have to post with this account, my Hartel account is still banned for some reason.))

 

Hartel was surprised by the sudden lack of battle that the Major employed against him. A simple ocmbination attack such as the one that was displayed was nothing versus Mandalorian combat and for Hartel he knew the Major was doing this for some reason or another. It was not easy to explain but the man had not tried. However, John was a gracious man, even by human standards, and so he pulled Hendricks up from the floor and continued their sparring with a bit more enthusiasum.

 

During the exercise it seemed that Hendricks grew more and more weary of the spar and his lust for battle faded with each moment, quite the opposite of what was going for Hartel, each moment flared up a new desire for more battle to ensue and Hartel, even against his own knowledge, had been fighting with more ferocity against his partner, damn near becoming dangerous.

 

The Major waved a halt to Hartel who resumed his stance only now noticing the sweat that made his hair appear to have been drug into a river. Allowing the Major to catch his breath Hartel sat in his meditative stance attempting to reach out and calm himself. Little happened without the use of the Force but the simple motion gave him peace. The Major seemed to have finally caught his breath after a minute or two and Hartel looked up to him awaiting next instruction.

[Ary the Grey]

((NPC))

 

The major ordered two drinks to be brought to them from the cafeteria area at the terminal in the room, however they only had a weak Corellian ale in stock. Still, it was something, better than being sober right now. He went back, sitting down opposite from Hartel. He took a deep breath before he began, memories flooding back to him. It had been too long...far too long. He had studied John's file especially hard, and he knew this would be the right person to tell.

 

"Right...the best place to start this story is at the beginning. Before I joined the Alliance, I was a youth on Coruscant, fresh out of initial school. I had no idea where I was going, I had nothing to keep me alive. My grades had been horrible, and I floated from crap job to crap job barely able to rent my own room. My parents had thrown me out when I was of age, and the last I heard from them was that they had died several years ago. They never spoke to me again.

 

"I was alone in the galaxy, and...there was really nobody I could turn to. Until one day I met someone in a bar. We shared a few drinks at first, and then when some drunk Ithorian picked a fight with me, the guy fought and pretty well layed him out in a number of seconds. He found out my situation, and offered me a job. For a while, I worked for him, never realizing it was a front for a Mandalorian clan to operate subtly. When I did find out, instead of anger, he met me gladly, happy I had finally known who he really was.

 

"That was when he really started to take me under his wing. He was only a few years older than I, but he was closer than the closest friend could be. He taught me the Mandalorian ways, Mando'a, and a lot of the Mandalorian martial arts. Soon, I was on my feet again, and could support myself. I always kept in touch with him, even after I enlisted with the Alliance in an attempt to further bring order to my chaotic life.

 

"When I was promoted to Second Lieutenant throguh one of the Officer programs there, I was assigned to a platoon on Coruscant, near where I had once lived and worked with my old friend. Intelligence had just caught wind of the Mandalorian movement there, and suspected they were up to no good. We were sent in to investigate by force...and someone fired a shot. I don't know which side started it, but it turned into a bloody firefight."

 

The Major stopped here, lowering his head, not able to make eye contact. The serving droid came in with the drinks, and he poured himself one, downing it before continuing.

 

"The look on his face was the thing that still haunts me. The Mandalorians were lightly defended, they weren't there with militaristic intentions, as we assumed. It was a slaughter under our concentrated rifle fire, they didn't really stand a chance. The Alliance, of course, came up with a cover story, to hide the truth. Of course, it had 'just been a bunch of Mandos, nobody would care', but I cared. There were only two survivors, a teen Mandalorian who had already reached the age of manhood, and my friend's five year old son."

 

He downed another glass of the ale, his face clearly showing how disgusted he was of himself.

 

"I still can't forgive myself of that. Not only had I killed one of my dearest friends I ever had, but I also took a father from his child. I, in the rawest sense, am a murderer, John Hartel. And now you know."

 

A long silence hung in the air after he was finished, Hartel himself stunned at the whole of the story.

 

"Well...anyways. It's time for the next set of instruction. After that you never have to see me again. Just be satisfied I still rot in my own personal Hell, because it brings me some measure of comfort. I deserve whatever you wish of me, but now is not the time for you to take action against me. If you do want to take your vengeance, I'll still be here after the rest of the Jedi leave."

 

With that, he got up, and moved towards the larger part of the dojo, wheeling out a rack with several premade lightsabers on it, furnished from the Jedi Order. They would be used for those that needed one, or wished to fight with a different saber. After he had completed the small task, he sent of the PA system in the base, Summoning all Jedi back to the training dojo.

[Talon]

OOC:

 

and the last I heard from them was that they had died several years ago. They never spoke to me again.

 

You don't say...

 

IC:

 

Talon twiddled his thumbs, which startled a butterfly who then flapped his wings. Because of this seemingly insignificant occurence, the average starfighter fuel cost raised .3 credits a liter, and El Nino caused a tsunami on Kamino.

 

Oh, woe.

[Ary the Grey]

((=P LMAO, I meant something to the effect of they hadn't spoken to him since they threw him out. Wrong sequencing of sentences when I went back and edited it. Oh well, you can all point and laugh now.

 

I'd also like to mention to everyone that the Special Ops thread is updated, I plan on keeping the first post current.

 

And don't worry, we're about to get to the fun stuff. Could people please post in the Special Ops thread which Force techniques they'd like to learn/which ones they are able to teach? I myself have two techniques that could be very useful to those wishing to learn them, as well as two more I intend to teach myself once we're at Ilum.))

 

Aryian happened to walk into the dojo just as the call was made, spotting Talon in the corner. He walked over to him with a smug sort of childish smile, one that would have reminded Talon of a child about to pull a prank.

 

As soon as the rest of the Jedi gathered in the main room, the Major began another lecture (However this one was MUCH shorter due to most of the things they had learned in the previous lesson), about the differences in visualizing where the person would strike next with a bladed weapon, such as a lightsaber, in comparison with a bare fist or other method of unarmed combat. After the ten-minute speech, the Jedi were left to themselves to pair off and begin a short spar. That was their task.

 

After the Major was finished, he left the area, and Aryian stepped forwards, addressing the group.

 

"You may practice as long as you wish, but understand the more intense your dueling, the more raw experience you gain from this, the better off you will be the next time you encounter it. It's not a perfect art, but it can be mastered to an extent. Don't allow it to catch you off guard in the future. After this, we're to meet up on Ilum, the coordinates of the new base are in the computer system here.

 

"We will learn new Force techniques, focus our skills, perhaps even learn how to make a Force artifact or train against another force. The Alliance mentioned something to me about that when I requested funds to build these bases. Anyways, after all that, we're done. We'll go on our first mission to cut our teeth, and afterwards, I expect the best of the best to come from this unit. If we fail, it is our fault, here, now, that led to it. Let's not fail. And you-"

 

He pointed right at Talon, the grin spreading wider on his face.

 

"-You're all mine this time."

 

 

There was no doubt Aryian was going to enjoy this.

 

((I believe there is an odd number of people here, which means if he wants, Scorso is not required to do this, since he's a Padawan, this might be a bit beyond him (The character) since he hasn't fought with a lightsaber with the Force yet. Then again, if you want to, dude, go for it. I guess someone's got to three-way a match. So...if someone wants to cut in on Me and Talon, I'm cool with it.))

[Talon]

When Aryian pointed him out, Talon nodded, and his face spread into a grin that matched.

 

”œAs you wish”¦”

[Ary the Grey]

He had known of Talon's skill. The legend was beyond normal for a Jedi like Aryian, who was raised through the Order on legends like Talon. Aryian himself was good with a saber, but this would truly be a test for him. For a moment, he was tempted to reach for one of his new lightsabers, the one with the electrum hilt, but instead chose the ones he knew better, the ones that had served him in battle far longer than they should have.

 

Twin silver beams ignited from Aryian's hands as Talon motioned with his hand, and Aryian nodded back, ready. This would be it, the culmination of all he had learned tested against everything Talon had learned. Both of them had experience in environs devoid of the Force, this much was apparent from Talon's records on file with the Order, and Aryian himself had trained with his old master once before on Myrkr. But not like this, never could he have imagined this might happen. He was not expertly ready, but yet he still held that air of confidence.

 

He crouched low, holding one saber high, the other laterally low, creating a more familiar defense grid, one that allowed him to make full use of his skills. Unfortnately, this time he didn't have the Force to aid him. He had felt blind when he first came here, but slowly he was getting used to it. Aryian could only imagine how he would feel the next time he escaped the Ysalamir's influence.

 

It was clear that Talon was patient with his style. A long moment happened between them where both waited for each other to strike, Talon's own form deceptively (and dangerously to him) open, while Aryian's stance was solid as a duracrete wall. It was Aryian who took the bait the first time around, however, hoping to draw Talon back onto the offensive in order so he could play him off at Aryian's most favorite game: frustration. He knew his strengths, he knew his weaknesses, and he knew that he greatly excelled at defense, yet could be taken if he began to attack. Form III was all about waiting as well, waiting for the opponent to make a mistake. Until then, it was defense and patience.

 

The first move was more of a feint than anything, Aryian's upper blade whipping overhead to tap Talon's own, enough to get him to bite back. After that, they were both a dancing flow of blocks and strikes, familiar with their own respective swordplays. As they went at it, Aryian recognized the sequence as a sort of path, with forks in the road representing several options for motions and movements. He knew each movement by heart, each step of the dance, each death-loving beat, and as they picked up momentum, it became easy for him to see where Talon was going to move to by how he moved before he struck.

 

But still, as they waged their small waltz, Aryian knew that the other's swordplay was almost perfect as well...though nobody was perfect. It was only a matter of time until one or the other cracked, and when that happened...Aryian just was fighting to make sure it wasn't him.

[Talon]

It was Aryian who made the first move, bringing his saber in a high arc. As Talon stepped forward with his right foot, in order to bring his own saber up to meet it, he noted with some satisfaction how much their previous exercises had increased his previously dismal reaction time. Their sabers clashed in a turbulent flash. And thus it began.

 

Talon continued with his momentum forward, playing into Aryian's solid defensive stance, and aggressively probing for any sign of weakness. He noticed how ardently his fellow Jedi Master had studied and practiced the ultra-defensive Form III. For such a duel, it was a wise choice- with it, the user patiently outlasted an opponent until he made but the slightest mistake. In an environment where the Force was accessible, it would have been folly to assume Talon would succumb to its enduring strategy, for the experienced Jedi Master knew how to compensate for what few mistakes he made. Yet in the harsher environment of Myrkyr, mistakes would be a tad more common, and much more ”˜fatal'.

 

In an effort to conserve energy (and in turn match the patience of the defensive), Talon himself relied heavily upon his knowledge of Form II- using the slightest flicks of wrist and elbow to efficiently wield the blade. His personal favorite, the highly acrobatic Form IV, was nigh useless in the current conditions anyway.

 

Time after time, Talon relentlessly battered onward, using the fencing style to primarily thrust and drive instead of slash. His opponent, however, was steadfast. Aryian was reading him like a book, and Talon realized that, similar to the way he was interpreting Aryian's movements, his own body motions were betraying him. He cursed underneath his breath; this meant he was too predictable, and he wasn't moving fast enough.

 

Picking up his tempo, he renewed the attack, making his strikes more unpredictable. With a quick one-two strike, he managed to maneuver his opponent's blades just enough to expose his right flank. With a roll and an uncharacteristic slash, Talon was able to weave his blade into the open space, and managed a nick on Aryian's side before his blade was again swept away by one of his opponent's defensive parries.

 

Adapting to the change, Aryian regained his composure and held his defenses, but with more apparent struggle. This was what Talon was hoping for”¦ If he could manage to hold his pace, he could eventually wear down the near impenetrable cover guarding his ”˜enemy'.

[Ary the Grey]

The sting on the side of his stomach brought Aryian back into reality again, and he backed off for a second to regroup, putting just enough space between them that they could still swing into blows, yet continually by taking a step backwards and continuing this in a circle, he could effectively defend himself better while he thought of something else. It was his overconfidence that had betrayed him, he had come in too close in anticipation, and Talon, using the expertise of Form II, had forced him to open up. It was the only real Form that could eventually pick away at the Form III style, while at the same time gave him the advantage of a razor perfect defense (Meaning, of course, what while Aryian used defense for offense, Talon was using his own offense as an effective defense).

 

After a few seconds of the cat-and-mouse footwork, Talon tried steering him into a nearby pillar to throw him off, but all Aryian really needed was a few seconds. It was clear he would have to change his methods. Up until now, he hadn't really tried anything risky, merely sticking to his tried and true form of lightsaber combat. Now it was time for Aryian's bag of Jedi tricks...the ones that didn't involve the Force.

 

True, in the purest form of his best Lightsaber combat, Aryian struggled to maintain an effective string of attacks (At least, in the form he used), but he knew so much more now than mere saber play. Grinning, he pressed forwards to Talon's surprise, allowing his quick and precise lunges and slashes to be caught on his own blades and thrown off. He had found long ago that it wasn't always necessary to attack to gain footing in a battle, you merely had to defend a bit stronger than your opponent attacked, and give the illusion that you could attack at any time.

 

The trick though, only lasted a few seconds until realization hit Talon, but by then, it was too late. Aryian caught Talon's blade in a scissors with his own, hard to pull off, but still was only needed for the brief time it allowed Aryian's foot to lash out and catch Talon's ankle from behind, taking the Master's weight out from under him as Aryian shoved with his own blades. It was clear that Talon had picked something up from their brief combat training session, as he fell, he went with it, and the fast slash Aryian followed up with, intending to bisect Talon's torso, merely brushed against the apex of his stomach.

 

Still, as Aryian watched Talon rise, he knew the trick would not work a second time. He had not yet had time to practice with his new saber, but he felt it was high time to start, though his twin sabers worked well for him, they meant his doom in eventuality. He disignited the twin blades, tossing them aside for the time being, using the little time he had before Talon used the opportunity to sweep in and strike to draw out one of his newer creations from inside his robes, a new lightsaber hilt adorned with a golden substance.

 

He ignited the milky sky blue blade, catching Talon's lunge just right to bring both their blades up and in close, both pushing hard on the other's blade to merely nick them. These kind of locks were dangerous and difficult to break, but it was more for Aryain to stare Talon in the face for a few seconds, trying to read his thoughts before he shoved hard, propelling himself away and back to a safe distance.

 

But now, he dropped into a highly recognizable stance, true the core stance belonged to Ataru, though it was obviously a variation modified for Form V swordsman. As Aryian swiftly moved to the offensive, trying to catch Talon on his toes, he thought he saw, or rather hoped, he had impressed the older Master a bit.

 

Talon wouldn't know it here, but he was indeed a large role model Aryian had followed for most of his time with the Jedi. And he was, perhaps, the only remaining Master left that Aryian didn't think of as his equal, but rather better than Aryian...and the chance to prove to himself otherwise was one that he took delight from, obvious from the smile that near constantly adorned his face as he read the incoming attacks and sent his own back ferociously, a far cry from the ultimate defense he had attempted to maintain a few minutes ago...

[Talon]

Talon suppressed a wince as Aryian's scissoring blades crossed over his torso, burning his flesh. The fact that the burning sensation did not go away was yet another painful (in even the literal sense of the word) reminder of his disconnection from the Force. Yet, the pain was not quite so bad as to remove his focus. And it was focus that was needed in the ensuing saber lock of blue and gold.

 

When two single blades meet and hold, a duel is reduced to nothing more than a contest of wills. And there were few who had the same determination and will power as Talon. Yet, Aryian was probably one of those few. Even so, he conceded, and pushed himself back to avoid a ”˜deadly' encounter.

 

Aryian's next move came as a surprise- he suddenly abandoned all pretense of defense and attempted a preemptive strike on the older Jedi Master. In battle, surprise often meant victory. Many a time it had been Talon's own best ally. Now it was all he could do to stave off a direct strike. He backpedaled into an awkward position, batting aside the blow as he went.

 

Impressive”¦ Most impressive”¦

 

Aryian pushed his advantage. Suddenly roles were reversed. Talon was put into a frantic defensive mode, trying to regain his rapidly deteriorating footing, while Aryian assumed the overwhelming offensive, attempting to complete the charge he began. In an effort to match and counter his opponent, Talon frenetically altered his own style of swordsmanship, incorporating a great many of the techniques of the Form III defense with his Form II finesse. It slowed the onslaught, but in the end it proved for naught. In a surge of offensive prowess originating from Aryian, Talon's footing gave way beneath him. The Jedi Master slipped towards the ground, and it appeared as if Aryian had come up on top.

 

Yet things were not always as they seemed. This duel without the Force was more rugged and unrefined than he expected. Normally, Talon was able to place his strikes precisely where he needed them; with his arsenal of attacks, he could maneuver his opponents into any position, forcing them to expose their weaknesses. He could pick up on the slightest of details: emotions, facial expressions, intentions. It was elegant and tasteful. This, on the other hand, was crude in comparison. Talon found it was sometimes difficult to employ what he had previously thought rudimentary techniques. There was more acting on instinct, and relying on the senses to predict the opponent. That, however, was the both the greatest weakness and the greatest strength of the current circumstances. The senses could often be deceived”¦

 

As he fell, Talon had time for one more good strike. Abandoning all sense of finesse, Talon whirled his blade around with all the strength he could muster. The golden blade brutally caught Aryian's own; the sudden switch was enough to catch his opponent off guard, and knock him about, if only slightly. Slightly was all Talon needed. As his back collided with the floor in a solid thump (and this time Talon could not suppress the grimace- evident by the contortion of his face), he enacted the second phase of his plan, and employed one of Aryian's own tricks against him- scissoring his feet between his own. In the matter of a moment, Aryian had joined him on the ground, and judging by his facial expression, perhaps unsure of how it had happened.

 

Neither combatant, however, made any quick moves to rise. Talon's impact had unforgivingly knocked the wind from his lungs, and now he gasped to get it back. On the other hand, it was a minor injury, and after several moments he rolled back over. With a heavy grunt, he forced himself to his knees.

 

EDIT:

 

P.S. POST 1000!!!

[Ary the Grey]

((Apologies, I reread the last post...a little much actions, neh? Good thing this is just a skirmish...

 

And congratulations, man, go post that in the posting milestones in Community. After you take a screenshot, of course. ))

 

Again, it was overconfidence that killed him, but not the kind Aryian would have expected. In the instant where he experienced another dose of minor euphoria from watching his efforts pay off, Talon nestled his feet around Aryian's, sending him down. Hard.

 

The impact hit mostly his torso, and luckily for them the floors were semi-padded, by far reducing the concussion he would have had were he on a harder surface like Duracrete. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. His lungs refused to fill themselves, and he was panting and wheezing, sure he would lose simply by being slow until he saw Talon doing the same thing.

 

They struggled to rise to their feet, for now it seemed the first one up would have the advantage, and right now, neither one could afford to lose their advantage. After this, though, Aryian had a firm taste of how good Talon was, even without the Force, he managed to constantly meet everything Aryian threw at him, and then some. There was a reason he looked up to Talon...

 

But as he finally stood, a mere second behind Talon, he disignited his lightsaber, signalling with his hand he was done.

 

"Master Talon..this has truly been an enjoyable honor, and I could go on further, but I think we are truly ready for what the lesson meant. On Myrkr, in this forest, we struggle, however I think it's obvious who the victor would be in a normal setting."

 

He raggedly walked over to his other two hilts, picking them up, then turning back to his skirmish partner.

 

"It's high time we got out of here. Those of you who are done, move out to Ilum! Final training awaits us there, and it all depends on how fast we pick up each other's Force skills."

 

He looked to Talon as he finished, staring at him for a second before breaking into smile and half-bowing yet again. He turned, looking over the faces of those present before he began walking out, a slight limp in his right leg barely visible. He linked with his ship, prepping it for departure, taking off from the wretched planet as soon as he got to it.