Good Jedi Bad Jedi: Below the Temple

Ch. 5 - Hands-off Training: Part 2

Calia recalled the first time the two had sparred together. She had stepped into the improvised training area nervously. In the temple, sparring matches with actual lightsabers was expressly forbidden and rigorously enforced. One small slip could result in a severed hand, leg, and even death; apprentices had to make due with low power training sabers, that only left you with a burn or bruise. Clearly, Master Arten could feel her nerves washing of her like a sheets of rain, she quickly come to realize that while his...injury made some activities, like reading datapad and computer screens for instance, more difficult, it left him incredibly tuned to a being's emotions.

As she stepped forward, cradling her unignited lightsaber loosely, as if she was afraid it would spring to life on its own accord, he said, 'Kid, relax. I'll make sure nobody gets hurt,' punctuating his statement by igniting his own ligthsaber with a spinning flourish, holding it firmly in both hands, standing sideways towards her in the aggressive starting stance for form V, Artaru. Calia was slightly taken aback, partly by how he seeming planned to use Ataru (a form known for Force-enhanced acrobatics despite being in such an enclosed space), and his ligthsaber's yellow color. Virtually every lightsaber she had ever seen was either green, or blue like her own saber. She had obviously heard of yellow, and even orange, purple, or the red of a Sith saber, but seeing it in person was another thing.

Focus! This is your first sparring session with your new master.

She activated her lightsaber, the blue light of its blade contesting her master's yellow blade to fill the room. Master Arten smirked, as Calia held her blade high in one hand, her other hand held towards him, as she extended her dominant foot back and the other forward. She had only began practicing Soresu from his instructions for a few days by this point, but felt her skills had quickly returned. Momentarily, she'd find that either she had overestimated how much she had remembered, or her initial instructions were, woefully, inadequate.

Calia smiled reminiscing on the sparing match, in only blink he had crossed the training area, and slipped his entire body in her guard before she had a chance to react. In one quick smooth motion he had grabbed her weapon hand, and using his hip as a fulcrum, pulled her off her feet, upside down through the air, to land hard on her back on. Stunned and with the wind knocked out of her chest, she looked up to see her Master twirling her saber casually in one hand, as he arrogantly strolled back to his starting position.

Calia could feel her face blossoming with flushed skin, her chest and throat constricting, her hands shaking. She wasn't aware of it at the time, but she was furious. He tells her to train in a form she hadn't studied in years, then blindsides her a throw, leaving her short of breath on the ground. She had spent hours practicing- On her own!- just trying to get the starting stance correct. Now he was just standing there, with her lightsaber in his hands! Expecting what? His Padawan to meekly and respectfully ask for it back?

No.

She held out one hand towards him, calling on the Force in her anger. Her lightsaber was ripped from Master Arten's grip, an expression of genuine shock had smeared itself across his features. She smiled realizing he was the one taken off-guard now, never expecting so forceful a move from his Padawan. She caught her weapon in her outstretched hand, and charged towards her master swinging wildly at him.

Despite his earlier surprise, he was more than ready. All he had to do was simply lean back at the waist slightly, away from her haphazard strike, and gripping her collar in his free hand to pull her forward. Her momentum continued carrying her until she stumbled, trying to catch her fall on her arms, but only falling hard on her elbow. Incensed again, Calia began to struggle back to her feet until she realized Master Arten was sat down on the floor opposite her.