Session export: Training the New Guy
The hall was quiet, so quiet that Vael’s breathing felt like drums in his ears, his footsteps slipping through the sand of the training basin as he circled the massive Togorian across from him. For what felt like the hundredth time, he adjusted his stance, trying to find some way to ease the discomfort of the heavy, poorly fitted training armor he wore. The plates pressed awkwardly against him, slowing his movements by even the smallest fraction of a heartbeat.
“Do you plan to stand there staring at me all day, Trainee?!” Rahjin Cindertail roared, an infuriating laugh following that seemed to shake the very ground beneath them.
Vael tightened his grip on the hilt of the dual-bladed saber. He was unfamiliar with the weapon, having spent most of his training practicing with a traditional single blade. It seemed both Rahjin and his Master believed he needed to learn control and, after nearly cutting his own leg off more than once while attempting to adjust to the weapon’s balance, he found their argument increasingly difficult to dismiss.
Across from him, the massive form of the Iron Warlord stood just as imposing as he had on Vael’s first day training after arriving on Arx over a year ago. This was far from the first beating he had received at the claws of Rahjin Cindertail. It was, however, the first time he had done so beneath the gaze of not only his Master, but also the Praetor of the Iron Army and the Grandmaster of the Brotherhood.
Rahjin held the Sith blade casually in one massive paw, almost daring his trainee to take the obvious openings in his defense. Vael took one final step backward, appearing on the verge of retreat before suddenly lunging across the expanse, closing the distance between them in a violent burst of speed.
“YES!” Rahjin barked, laughing as the air around Vael began to distort and grow heavier, throwing the younger man’s balance off. The weight of gravity doubled for a brief instant, just long enough to force Vael out of position. Rahjin’s blade snapped outward, striking one end of the double-bladed saber and sending both weapon and wielder stumbling violently aside.
Rajhin felt a thrill he had not felt in some time. While he would never admit it in the moment, Vael was pushing him nearly to his limit. The former Fist had trained hundreds, if not thousands over the years and he had rarely seen raw power of this magnitude. It was not out of cruelty or some misplaced sense of masochism that Rajhin pushed the Arkanian as hard and as relentlessly as he had. The older warrior knew firsthand that the enemies of the Brotherhood would show no mercy; he had nearly died at their hands during the last Great Jedi War. Harsher training meant warriors were more likely to come home.
The Togorian called upon the Force to augment his leg muscles and rushed forward with near-supernatural speed, his alchemically enhanced sword bearing down upon Vael. Rajhin would not hold back one ounce; it was what was expected of any who would take up the mantle of Grand Master’s Royal Guard.
A warning shot through Rajhin’s subconscious like a bolt of thunder. He had too much momentum built up to stop or do much more than cross his arms across his chest. An invisible blow like a durasteel hammer struck him with enough force to send just about any other warrior flying backward. The Togorian steeled his body and managed to plant his feet in a split-second reflex. He only slid backward about a meter, standing tall. As he looked up he saw Vael pressing the offensive, summoning his double-bladed lightsaber to his hand.
The Warlord flashed a toothy grin as he had to dig deep to match the relentless onslaught of blows from his opponent. “NOTHING HELD BACK, AS IT SHOULD BE!”
Uji stood a safe distance from the pit containing the clash between the two. What had begun as a sparring session was quickly growing into an all-out exhibition of power and skill. A fleeting moment of pride crossed his face as he watched the battle unfold. The younger warrior was holding his own against Rahjin, an impressive feat in and of itself.
“Rahjin’s return and willingness to retain his role in training our future generations was a welcome surprise,” Barafu stated, breaking the silence for the first time since the clash had begun. If the Praetor’s nerve was shaken by the two sets of eyes turning to regard her, she failed to show any sign of it, her posture remaining rigid as the Fist and the Grandmaster contemplated her words.
“I agree. His work with Vael has been nothing short of exemplary since I arranged his transport to Arx,” Uji responded with a short nod of approval toward his Praetor. The Togorian woman had come highly recommended, and her charm and poise had proven effective in softening the conflict that often arose from Uji’s more demanding presence among their forces.
“As you can see, it will not be long now before he can assume the role I proposed to you before Thane,” Uji stated. With his friend’s elevation to Grandmaster, Uji had already begun ensuring the guardsmen closest to Thane would be hand-selected and trained under his watch. Vael would be among them, a position that would secure both purpose and influence for the young warrior in the years to come.
Thane sighed, which was a thing he was known for, and glanced towards Uji as his friend spoke. It was a subtle sign of respect that he actually visibly offered up his attention which was considered valuable by most measures.
“Not sure it is necessary,” Thane grumbled, and not for the first time or the last, in regards to the protective detail the Fist had been organizing. Historically, it had become something of a game for Thane to slip the leash so to speak and avoid any bodyguards assigned to him. Now, with the horribly cumbersome responsibility and visibility that came with a title such as Grand Master, he wasn’t “allowed” to do so. A debatable point, or at least he thought so, but not one he would win. At least not without cheating. “Impressive, though.”
With a massive offensive against the Collective on the horizon, he had even less ground to argue. The Grand Master flicked his eyes towards Barafu again before striding closer to the pit. It was not the first time Uji had given him an update on Vael in particular. In fact, the Arkanian was rather known to Thane by now. At least more than the rank and file.
“Do you predict availability in time?”
“Are you doubting me now?” Uji asked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he followed in Thane’s footsteps.
He didn’t have to look to know Barafu was keeping pace with them.
Before Thane could respond, Uji continued. “Vael will be prepared to accompany you.“
Looking back toward Barafu, Uji nodded. “Barafu will be leading from the ground, acting to relay orders and ensure I have someone we can depend on.”
Another titanic clash within the pit sent air and sand exploding outward as the two Guardsmen battled for dominance, straining against one another through both physical blows and the Force itself.
Barafu gave a short nod in return when Uji met her gaze. She walked a couple of paces behind the Grandmaster and FIST, paws clasped behind her back as she maintained the respectful gap. She kept her main focus on the fight, though was attentive of the two in front of her and their surroundings, ears angling to and thro.
“The commanders are more than prepared with the established chain of communication. We will be able to monitor our units for as long as they are able to report back.” Barafu stated, contemplative. Far from untested, this would still be war at a larger scale than she had experienced before. There was relief to be found with the presence of the other Togorion. “Between myself and Rahjin we should be able to maintain that for a significant part of the battle. Ill be acquiring protected comm devices, hopefully ones the Collective can’t jam.”
“I should be there,” Thane growled, his lilting accent making it clear despite the low tone. He hated that he was being held back from the front lines. He had always been in the thick of things.
Vael struck again and again, his fists slamming into the Togorian Warlord’s body. Each blow felt connected, yet frustration steadily grew as the larger man twisted and turned, ensuring that instead of solid, heavy strikes, the attacks merely grazed his fur or slipped away entirely as they wrestled in the middle of the ring, locked together in a brutal clinch. In return, the Warlord made certain the younger man received as good as he gave. Several cuts and abrasions peppered Vael’s exposed face.
Pieces of the training armor they wore had been rent apart or torn away entirely, the two having cast their weapons aside in favor of fists, knees, and raw physicality. Vael shifted his grip on the Togorian, trying to twist the larger man into a throw. He was rewarded with a pawed hand gripping his hair and a blinding flash of pain as the Warlord’s skull cracked against his own.
The Arkanian stumbled back, his vision blurred as he struggled to assert control over his body, drawing on the Force to steady himself. His breathing quickened as the need to prove himself the Togorian’s equal burned within him. Yet instead of the calm focus he sought, a haze of red flooded his vision as power surged through his body. Vael let out a roar of pain and frustration before hurling himself forward with a burst of speed, no longer seeing a mentor or trainer before him, but an enemy determined to make a fool of him.
—
Uji sighed at the Grandmaster’s response, knowing how difficult it would be to keep Thane from the front lines. The Grandmaster’s fall would cripple the Brotherhood’s morale and open the door for others to seize power in the vacuum left behind.
“There is no doubt our enemy will seek you out, and it will not be a duel, an exchange, or anything resembling a fair battle. Olligard would glass his own worlds to ensure your eradication, knowing what your death would do to the Brotherhood.”
The sound of his apprentice’s attack drew his attention back to the ring, a frown crossing his face.