Chapter 19
A pair of shuttles ascend from the planet heading towards the Shadow Redeemer. The first contains some members of the salvage crew with the first haul from the recently secured wreckage. The second has additional materials, transport personnel and Joash, whose face portrays the anger and frustration currently consuming him. The second ship sets down softly on the deck of the hangar just after the first and the ramps cannot open fast enough as Joash is clambering to escape its grasp. Treading with ferocity, the old Jedi stomps towards the other crew who had landed only moments before. Several uniformed personnel exit down the ramp, carrying crates full of salvaged material while a woman in her thirties separates from the group to discuss the contents with the awaiting Admiral, who stands a dozen meters away flanked by Mirr. Athin and Rend remained planetside in case of additional attacks while the necessary materials were acquired from the wreck.
“What the hell was that!” Joash exclaims in the other party's general direction, continuing to stride purposefully towards them. “Mirr, Mandalorians? You said they were raiders, bandits, and unskilled. And you,” He points an accusatory finger at the Admiral, “You let a padawan go down there knowing she wasn’t skilled enough! This is exactly why I left the Order. When you start putting the next generation in too early you lose them! I put up with a lot of things that you and I don’t see eye to eye on but this is too much!” His words elicit no visible response from Anhiel as she continues to review the datapad the salvage team had just handed her. Joash comes to a rest a couple paces away, glaring at the younger woman as his anger radiates through the Force. Several long and tense moments pass with those near enough to hear looking on with apprehension before Joash moves to speak again. However, Anhiel’s voice cuts in with an uninterested tone, “No one is ever ready. You go when ready enough.” She pauses but resumes in time to cut Joash off once more. “Do you mind enlightening me on how Padawan Veruna came into possession of a lightsaber so early in her training?” Joash scowls, “Yes, I gave her the broken weapon. I sensed the Force pushing me to do so. But…” Again, the Grandmaster’s voice interjects as she finally turns to face Joash. “But now you don’t think she is ready for the responsibility of carrying the weapon? The will of the Force was wrong then?” The grisly Jedi growls lightly in response, “I did not anticipate she would be able to repair it so quickly, if at all.” Anhiel gives a quizzical “Hmmm” as her blue eyes look over Joash, “It appears that you understand far less about Sun’s ability and drive than you think you do. Fixing a broken saber is trivial for her. She would see such a gift as a great responsibility, to both fix and be worthy to wield. But you failed to see this and blame me for her volunteering for the mission when my orders were for her to stay aboard the ship.” Her head tilts to the left every so slightly as she pauses, waiting for a response. The scowl on Joash’s face deepens as he retorts “The worst we were supposed to encounter was disorganized bandits, not a clan of his people.” He thrusts a finger in the direction of the nearby Mandalorian. Anhiel’s face is now irritated, showing her rapidly fading patience with the older Jedi. “Do not look for somewhere to cast blame for your own failings. It is not becoming of someone that claims to be a Jedi Master.” She turns away, handing back the datapad to the individual from the salvage team and addresses Joash one last time in a flat tone, “If you are bothered so much by what has occurred, I suggest you take more responsibility in preparing our future Knights. We do not have the luxury of deciding when the Force will call upon them to serve, whether it be in life or in death.” Without waiting for a response, Anhiel strides away followed by Mirr, leaving Joash alone save for the personnel that continued to unload the nearby shuttle.
Three days passed without any additional altercations both aboard the Shadow Redeemer and planetside. Nearby bandits were content to let the new arrivals salvage the wreck in peace based on the relative ease with which they displaced the Mandalorians. The remainder of the clan also remained quiet. From an exposed beam 30 meters in the air hung the helmet of the slain Mandalorian leader, signaling the defeat of the clan and change in ownership of the wreck. Sun spent the first two days aboard the medical frigate recovering from the battle on the bridge of the derelict ship, receiving regular Kolto doses before she returned to the Shadow Redeemer, nursing some residual aches in the wounded leg. She spent the remainder of time in her quarters pouring over what combat related materials she had access to with regular breaks to stretch and attempt to move through various forms. After several hours the young woman departed her quarters and walked slowly through the metal hallways of the capital ship, eventually arriving at a standard metal door which she knocked on gently. She steps back slightly while waiting for a response from within. Rend’s voice comes through quietly, “Come in.” Sun keys the door open and steps in, bowing to her master. She remains low as Rend smiles, “Padawan, it is good to see you. I am glad your recovery is going so quickly.” As he finishes the sentence he frowns, sensing an unfamiliar set of emotions from the young woman. “What is bothering you, Sun?” he says in a concerned tone. Sun straightens, her deep green eyes reflecting fierce determination that moves to mask the self-disappointment she felt within. Rend swallows, feeling a blanket of apprehension wrap around him as he awaited her answer.
A couple hours later, sabers clash loudly in the training room. Green and gold blades flash and crackle as they repeatedly collide. Sun breathes heavily as she holds her saber in a vertical defensive stance, watching her master carefully with his dual golden blades. The often timid Knight was surprisingly forceful when denying Sun’s initial request to resume training. But her insistence and reasoning eventually swayed her master’s mind. The physician had cleared her for physical activity. Sun also pointed out that injuries were going to occur and learning to continue and adapt was necessary. Rend lashes out, using his superior height and strength to bully the young woman back as she moves to a purely defensive strategy, gritting her teeth as the ache in her leg increases with the movement. The onslaught continues until Rend spins quickly, bringing a backhanded slash with the bottom blade of his saber, ripping his opponent’s blade from her hand. The blade extinguishes before it bounces along the metal ground, the sound mixing with the hiss from the opening of the far door. The lone soldier standing just within the door snaps to attention, “Admiral!” Anhiel nods lightly to the soldier before striding towards the center of the room. Sun and Rend both turn, surprised, and bow to the woman echoing each other as they speak, “Grandmaster.” The Admiral is clad in her white uniform, hair pulled back in a tight ponytail as she appraises the master and padawan duo. Her voice is authoritative as she addresses Rend, “Rend, I would like to spend some time with your Padawan, alone.” The statement takes both by surprise, but after several moments Rend bows once more, “Of course, Grandmaster.” Apprehension fills the air as Rend departs the training room. The origin is the young Padawan who stands motionless, unable to bring her gaze to meet the icy gaze of the Grandmaster. Anhiel’s tone is sharp as she addresses the young woman “You have made great progress in most areas, Padawan Veruna. However, your combat progress is subpar.” The Admiral begins moving slowly around the room as she listens to Sun’s response, tinged with shame “Yes, Grandmaster. I have been trying but combat has never been my strong suit.”
Anhiel continues to circle the younger woman, removing her cape and casting it aside “Show me the form you use primarily.” Sun nods gently, calling her saber from where it lay after several moments of concentration and igniting it. She holds it in a nearly vertical hold in front of her as she moves through the Shii-cho form. Her movements are fluid despite her healing injury but the circling Grandmaster seems unimpressed, coming to a stop just in front of the Padawan. A single purple saber snaps to life, held in a reverse grip in Anhiel’s right hand. The blade swings quickly towards the Padawan, without warning, causing her to recoil and wildly block the strike. The white haired woman presses the attack with a single saber, spinning quickly to strike again before reversing the blade to slash once more. Sun sends a wild downward strike at the nimble woman and her blade is batted away by the reverse blade before a sweeping leg takes out the Padwan’s legs, causing her to fall to the floor. Sun’s eyes close tightly as she groans from the pain from her wound and landing on the hard metal floor. As she opens them, the point of a purple saber rests millimeters from the flesh of her throat just below her clavicles. Anhiel’s eyes narrow as she straightens, “Shii-cho is wasted on you. You are nimble, but lack strength in a fight. Shien is more suited to you.” Sun looks confused as she begins to rise, “I have not heard of that form, Master. It is not in any teachings that Master Rend provided me.” Anhiel sighed irritatedly, “That is because it is not commonly taught. It is offense and defense acting in concert, relying heavily on the use of a reverse grip with a single saber. But it is more technical than basic forms owing to the proximity of the wielder’s own blade to their body. My approval is required for a Padawan such as yourself to begin training on the most technical parts of the form.” Anhiel crouches with the single blade in a reverse grip as she begins to move through the form. Her saber stays close to her body except for when she makes wide sweeping slashes in her envelope of influence. As she finishes, she states flatly, “You do not possess the physicality to meet most combatants head on, as demonstrated by your recent battle with the Mandalorian leader. However, this form keeps the combat tight, relying on your nimbleness until the appropriate opening shows itself.” She waves her hand, signaling for the other woman to finish risinga. The second purple saber ignites moments before Anhiel engages again, leaving Sun with only a moment or two to switch her grip on her saber and spin to deflect the first strike. The Grandmaster strikes with multiple quick attacks, alternating between slashes and thrusts as she assaults the younger woman. The attacks are relentless, putting the Padawan into a back peddle as she frantically deflects the onslaught of strikes. She moves to meet the strikes just outside of the effective envelope. Anhiel growls in frustration at the choice as she bats the Padawan’s saber away before delivering a front kick that connects with the younger woman’s solar plexus, sending her backwards several meters where she lands with a dull thud, knocking the air from her lungs.
The Grandmaster extinguishes her sabers and places them on her hips. Her right arm reaches out and summons a long weapon from a nearby rack. As it contacts her palm, a shimmer coats the metallic blade as a shock field activates. Sun slowly rises from the ground, still attempting to regain her breath as she picks up her extinguished saber. Again, Anhiel crouches, holding the new weapon in a reverse grip as she begins to move through the form. “You must fight on your terms, Padawan. Do not meet the ferocity or strength of your opponent on equal ground. Bring them to you, deflect their momentum and move the fight into an advantageous position for you.” She continues to move through the form, keeping the blade in a tight envelope, simulating the gentle redirection of an enemy's attack and energy. As the demonstration finishes, Anhiel readies herself, leveling intense eyes at the younger woman as she growls, “Now prepare yourself, Padawan.” Sun nods nervously, reigniting her green blade so it extends from the base of her palm as she crouches low, her wounded right leg set back in the stance as she steels herself for the onslaught to come. The attack is ferocious and unrelenting. How a single blade could strike so frequently baffles the younger woman as she back peddles, doing her best to knock away the successive blows. A spinning move knocks her saber down towards the ground as her silver haired opponent moves with an inhuman speed to bring a heavy slash of the stun weapon across her shoulder blades. The shock of the weapon courses through the Padawan, causing her to fall to the ground flat on her stomach. The Grandmaster circles the fallen woman and speaks with a mildly irritated tone. “Again.” Sun slowly makes her way to her feet once more, igniting her lightsaber and crouching. Moments later the attacks resume. Again, the Padawan is pushed back as she attempts to block the repeated strikes. The defense comes slightly more naturally but still the onslaught is insurmountable. Anhiel quickly spins her weapon in a single rotation like a propeller which knocks her opponent's saber to her right. She takes the opening to spin to her left and uses the momentum and leverage to slam the length of her weapon into the young woman’s abdomen, making her double over in agony from the strength of the strike and the shock from the stun. Sun gasps for breath as she hunches over, attempting to recover. Again, Anhiel circles the Padawan while she speaks in an unimpressed tone “Are you trying to disappoint me, Padawan Veruna?”
Sun shakes her head as she gasps for breath, sweat dripping from her brow from the exertion. Shakily she responds between gasps, “No…Grandmaster.” Anhiel continues to circle as she speaks, “Then why do you refuse to access your potential?” The question takes Sun by surprise as she fumbles for an answer, “I am doing my best, Grandmaster.” Her response elicited a look from the silver haired woman that brought chills down to the bone. The iciness carried into the woman’s voice as she addressed the Padawan, “If that is the case, I was wrong to accept you into our order, especially at such a late age.” Padawan Veruna rises from the ground once more, her features set with determination as she responds only with the ignition of her saber, dropping once more into a low crouch with the blade pointed behind her. Anhiel responds with a wry smile as she readies her weapon, “Very good, Padawan. You are only defeated when you accept defeat.” A swirl of power can be sensed in the air, originating from Sun. It is not an overwhelming power. Instead, it is dripped with precision and focus befitting the woman’s temperament which is reflected in her eyes as the pain of her wound and injuries from the current bout fade away. Anhiel launches herself at her opponent, bringing her weapon to bear in multiple successive strikes as before. Despite the frequent attacks, the young woman notices an ease to the new form. The reverse grip allows her to keep her envelope of defense close, limiting her exertion in conjunction with the threads of the Force now flowing through her. She backpedals less than the previous engagements, tucking into a position where she is able to deflect the attacks in a manner that allows her to easily handle the follow up strikes. After several minutes, Sun lashes out with a sweeping strike, causing Anhiel to step back for the first time in their multiple bouts. With that, the Grandmaster lowers her weapon as she breathes with a slight amount of effort. Her eyes now convey a tinge of pride as they survey the young Padawan. “Better. I suspect you will pick it up quickly now, as you have everything else that has been thrown at you. I will make some teachings about this form available to you as well as some additional topics.” The final statement raises the young woman’s brow in interest but Anhiel does not elaborate. Instead she moves to where her cape was thrown, picking it up and donning it again. The Admiral exhales deeply while her back is turned to the young padawan before addressing her once more in an even tone, “As I said, that weapon is not an ornament and it places great responsibility on its wielder whether they know it or not. It would have been more appropriate for your training to progress further before fashioning one. However, that was not the will of the Force it would seem. Continue to apply yourself as you do in everything else, trust in the Force and you will succeed.” Sun bows low, breathing and sweating heavily, aching in the areas she was struck before “Thank you for your wisdom, Grandmaster.” Anhiel begins to stride towards the door but stops after several steps, turning her head slightly to the right “I have something else for you, Padawan. Bring your Master to the armory after the officers meeting. I will join you there shortly after.” The Admiral leaves without waiting for a response, allowing the door to slide shut behind her as Sun bows once more, attempting to process all that she has learned.
An hour later, Sun sits down at her work station clad in her uniform while she finishes the single braid in her hair. The many aches and pains in her body are somewhat reduced from the hot water of the refresher. She makes several key strokes on the workstation which causes a large rectangular section to recede and slide away, allowing an angled monitor to rise up several inches while simultaneously turning on. A notification appears on the screen which Sun opens, revealing a short message from the Grandmaster.
“Padawan Veruna,
Attached to this communication are the available teachings on Shien, including restricted items which I have provided my authorization for you to review and train on. Additional items pertaining to select Force techniques shall follow soon. We will discuss in more detail when we meet in the armory.”
May the Force be with you.
Grandmaster Anhiel Dulcinae”
A gleam shines in the young padawan’s eyes as she excitedly opens the attached teachings. Her desire to learn burns brightly in her appearance as she begins to read through the material.
Form V
The Way of the Krayt Dragon
The Perseverance Form
Variant 1
Shien
Sub Variant A.
Reverse Shien
A practitioner maintains a crouched stance with their weapon held in a reverse grip with their dominant leg slightly behind the leading leg.
The initial stance is designed to deflect incoming energy whether being a long range attack or close combat strike.
Application theory:
Sub variant A is designed to create fulcrums using the intensity of the opponent against them while the practitioner exerts little effort. At moments, the redirected energy will create openings for swift strikes. Rigid blocks by the opponent should be handled with repositioning relative to the opponent to force additional openings.
Main Fulcrums:
Standing fulcrum, Leaning fulcrum, High fulcrum, Low fulcrum and Dragons fulcrum
Note: Dragon's fulcrum is the deadliest of the set and requires extreme caution and control. Not recommended for Padawan learners or inexperienced Knight ranks. Approval by the Grandmaster is required for Padawan and Knight learners prior to beginning training.
Standing Fulcrum:
From the initial stance the practitioner will slide the front foot back creating an upward stance and bringing the reverse blade to the front of the body. The practitioner can generate power to counter a front strike or head on blaster bolt. The weapon arm should not be fully extended to allow for rapid movement of the blade.
Leaning Fulcrum:
From standing fulcrum, the dominant leg will extend to the side allowing the practitioner to sink in deeper into their stance. The wrist is then twisted to create a cross guard. This is designed to absorb and rebound a high strike typically coming from a combination strike or redirect the energy to the side. The slight movements allow for faster reconciliation in case of multiple assailants.
High Fulcrum:
From leaning fulcrum, the practitioner will twist the hips and sink into a kneeling position. The blade is turned into a traditional two handed grip with the blade extended at an angle above the practitioner's head, allowing attacks to glance off instead of absorbing the energy. This stance allows the assailant to continue through their mid strike and open up their undefended side for a quick counterattack.
Low Fulcrum:
From the kneeling position, the blade is shifted back into the reverse grip and brought downward to create a guarded position against a low strike. The practitioner can maintain this guard while rotating and standing into the initial crouched position. The weapon arm should not be fully extended to allow for rapid movement of the blade.
Dragon’s Fulcrum:
Training on Dragon’s fulcrum requires prior approval by the Grandmaster. See a Form V master for instruction as the intricacies are too great for words to describe.
Note: Current enclave Form V Masters - Grandmaster Anhiel Dulcinae, Master Ca’ JoasichuBana’kaeda