Post by Force_Flow on Jul 29, 2007 11:41:47 GMT -4
Nait was already there. The stormtrooper who had leveled their weapon at Mariel’s back was pushed to the side with some invisible force, and slammed his head into the pearl-white walls. The attacker crumpled to the ground, and Nait focused his attention on the others.
He could feel each spark of life that was the stormtroopers. He had learned to accept the feeling of loss whenever a life was struck down, but now he started to remember a day when he was twelve years old, sparring with Scout…
”It’s swing, stamp, punch, kick?”
“Yeah,” Nait said. He took a fighting position in front of Scout and did it in a mirror-like way that Jedi Masters do to their class. Scout followed his movements, stumbling slightly as her foot landed the wrong way, and ended up falling down on top of him.
“Can you show me eighty-eight instead?” she asked. She stood and dusted off her knees. “I’ll ask Master Iron Hand how to do that joint lock correctly.”
“Okay,” Nait said. “Start in your fighting stance. Good. Back on one foot, and your hands are raised—good. Step foreword, slam your hands into their chest and pull opposite ways. Left hand goes up, take their arm, bring it close—good. Now take their head and bring it towards you, go back…”
They practiced eighty-eight for two hours. It took almost twenty minutes for an expert to do, and about fifty minutes each time with Scout. Her hair was coming undone due to the flips and sharp turns, and started to get in her face. Nait was sweating. “Break,” he said.
“Let’s spar,” Scout suggested as they got their water down the hall. “Come on.” Nait shook his head. “The only reason we weren’t sent to Geonosis was because they thought we couldn’t fight! Master Chirca didn’t leave me anything to do, and even your Master didn’t take you! Come on. It won’t hurt.”
“I’m not afraid to get hurt,” Nait said. “I’m afraid if you do.”
“Practice sabers,” she said crossly. “It’s just a burn or two. Remember what Iron Hand said? ‘Pain is just another distraction.’”
“Fine,” Nait said. “Only this once. I’ll go easy on you.”
Her eyes narrowed and her nose flared, a sure sign that he had hit a nerve. “Why thank you, Nait.”
“No problem.”
As they entered the training room, Scout ignited her lightsaber, a neon orange. She always joked about making another one for the Jar’Kai form of lightsaber combat. Nait would always disagree, and say that she should do Ataru like Yoda, because she was small. But she had grown, and she was almost taller than him. Nait favored Soresu the most, and despised Mashaki He didn’t believe in fighting other Jedi. His sister seemed to love it.
But it was ridiculous to think that they’d end up fighting other Jedi. As he constantly pointed out to her.
Scout raised her lightsaber above her head, spinning it so fast it was nothing but a blur, then lunged foreword. It came down in a savage overhead strike that Nait almost missed, and then Scout brought it back down to hit his waist. Recognizing the maneuver at the last second, Nait could only throw himself in a backward roll to escape injury.
She was on him before he even got to his feet. Right-left-right-left-right-left… Nait blocked, rolled twisted, and blocked again, trying to turn back the flurry. He tried a leg-sweep, but Scout anticipated the move and nimbly leapt clear, giving Nait just enough time to get to his feet.
The next round of attacks kept Nait in full retreat, but he was able to prevent Scout from gaining the advantage by giving ground and reverting to basic defense sequences. He was still trying to gain some advantage by watching her moves. At one moment Scout seemed to be using the thrusts and jabs of Juyo, the most offensive lightsaber form there was, then would stop in the middle of a sequence and revert to Ataru. A quick turn or rotation of her weapon was enough for Nait to jump back once again.
How did she get so powerful?
When did she get so SMART?
There was a brief lull in action as they both paused to reevaluate their strategies, each breathing heavily. Nait watched his sister with a sinking feeling. She had been toying with him in the first few passes, dragging the fight out so her victory would be more impressive. Already ten or fifteen students stopped what they were doing and started to watch them.
Now she was using her true skill, using sequences that blended several forms at once, switching rapidly to different styles in a method Nait was only seen Cin Drawlling do.
It was just one more sign of his sister’s superiority. If Nait tried to combine different sequences, he’d gorge out an eye. But he was enjoying himself immensely. She had taught him to like the fight.
She moved in close and jumped him. They landed in a heap on the ground, and her lightsaber was at his throat. He managed a smile. “You wouldn’t kill your own brother, would you?” he asked softly.
“No, I don’t think I would,” Scout said. “And… I win.”
She wouldn’t kill her own brother. The memory passed by in a flash, but to his he was acting out every defensive maneuver he had learned that day. He could feel every bead of sweat…
She won’t kill me. She said so. She never breaks a promise.
He never felt so happy in his life.
He could feel each spark of life that was the stormtroopers. He had learned to accept the feeling of loss whenever a life was struck down, but now he started to remember a day when he was twelve years old, sparring with Scout…
”It’s swing, stamp, punch, kick?”
“Yeah,” Nait said. He took a fighting position in front of Scout and did it in a mirror-like way that Jedi Masters do to their class. Scout followed his movements, stumbling slightly as her foot landed the wrong way, and ended up falling down on top of him.
“Can you show me eighty-eight instead?” she asked. She stood and dusted off her knees. “I’ll ask Master Iron Hand how to do that joint lock correctly.”
“Okay,” Nait said. “Start in your fighting stance. Good. Back on one foot, and your hands are raised—good. Step foreword, slam your hands into their chest and pull opposite ways. Left hand goes up, take their arm, bring it close—good. Now take their head and bring it towards you, go back…”
They practiced eighty-eight for two hours. It took almost twenty minutes for an expert to do, and about fifty minutes each time with Scout. Her hair was coming undone due to the flips and sharp turns, and started to get in her face. Nait was sweating. “Break,” he said.
“Let’s spar,” Scout suggested as they got their water down the hall. “Come on.” Nait shook his head. “The only reason we weren’t sent to Geonosis was because they thought we couldn’t fight! Master Chirca didn’t leave me anything to do, and even your Master didn’t take you! Come on. It won’t hurt.”
“I’m not afraid to get hurt,” Nait said. “I’m afraid if you do.”
“Practice sabers,” she said crossly. “It’s just a burn or two. Remember what Iron Hand said? ‘Pain is just another distraction.’”
“Fine,” Nait said. “Only this once. I’ll go easy on you.”
Her eyes narrowed and her nose flared, a sure sign that he had hit a nerve. “Why thank you, Nait.”
“No problem.”
As they entered the training room, Scout ignited her lightsaber, a neon orange. She always joked about making another one for the Jar’Kai form of lightsaber combat. Nait would always disagree, and say that she should do Ataru like Yoda, because she was small. But she had grown, and she was almost taller than him. Nait favored Soresu the most, and despised Mashaki He didn’t believe in fighting other Jedi. His sister seemed to love it.
But it was ridiculous to think that they’d end up fighting other Jedi. As he constantly pointed out to her.
Scout raised her lightsaber above her head, spinning it so fast it was nothing but a blur, then lunged foreword. It came down in a savage overhead strike that Nait almost missed, and then Scout brought it back down to hit his waist. Recognizing the maneuver at the last second, Nait could only throw himself in a backward roll to escape injury.
She was on him before he even got to his feet. Right-left-right-left-right-left… Nait blocked, rolled twisted, and blocked again, trying to turn back the flurry. He tried a leg-sweep, but Scout anticipated the move and nimbly leapt clear, giving Nait just enough time to get to his feet.
The next round of attacks kept Nait in full retreat, but he was able to prevent Scout from gaining the advantage by giving ground and reverting to basic defense sequences. He was still trying to gain some advantage by watching her moves. At one moment Scout seemed to be using the thrusts and jabs of Juyo, the most offensive lightsaber form there was, then would stop in the middle of a sequence and revert to Ataru. A quick turn or rotation of her weapon was enough for Nait to jump back once again.
How did she get so powerful?
When did she get so SMART?
There was a brief lull in action as they both paused to reevaluate their strategies, each breathing heavily. Nait watched his sister with a sinking feeling. She had been toying with him in the first few passes, dragging the fight out so her victory would be more impressive. Already ten or fifteen students stopped what they were doing and started to watch them.
Now she was using her true skill, using sequences that blended several forms at once, switching rapidly to different styles in a method Nait was only seen Cin Drawlling do.
It was just one more sign of his sister’s superiority. If Nait tried to combine different sequences, he’d gorge out an eye. But he was enjoying himself immensely. She had taught him to like the fight.
She moved in close and jumped him. They landed in a heap on the ground, and her lightsaber was at his throat. He managed a smile. “You wouldn’t kill your own brother, would you?” he asked softly.
“No, I don’t think I would,” Scout said. “And… I win.”
She wouldn’t kill her own brother. The memory passed by in a flash, but to his he was acting out every defensive maneuver he had learned that day. He could feel every bead of sweat…
She won’t kill me. She said so. She never breaks a promise.
He never felt so happy in his life.