The Way of the Mynock

Fiach Dubh

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“In close-quarter fighting, Billaba’s emphasis was always on Form III, which you favour to a ridiculous degree.”
― The Grand Inquisitor, to Kanan Jarrus


After the heat of Klatooine, it was the humidity as opposed to the temperature of the jungle world Ajan Kloss that Fiach found most challenging. It also took her a while to get used to a short horizon. Other than buildings, at home your eye was drawn to a point many kilometres away. Nowhere on this lush moon was this the case. Initially it made her feel claustrophobic – but the longer she remained here, the less the feeling was prevalent.

And she’d also taken time to adjust to life here at the Order’s temple. She was used to her home and her parents. Customers at their repair shop dealt with her, but rarely more than once. Here, she was part of a much larger network of Padawans and Knights that regularly interacted. Fiach was not a social animal and found much of what others seemed to deal with naturally was not second nature to her. But she was fond of rules and so built up a mental databank of appropriate responses in social situations.

Fortunately, a lot of training was done one-on-one, either with her Master or a Knight that would develop her knowledge and skill-base. Although her Master could cover all of the requirements of a Padawan’s training, sometimes she was on a mission or it was decided that learning from another would shed light on a discipline from a fresh angle. And given Fiach was a sponge and looked to fill every waking moment with learning, she was eager to take up any offer that came along.

She’d completed her morning run through the jungle – she seemed to exist on less sleep than most – and had a quick breakfast. She saw meals as energy and nourishment alone – fuel for her body – so never skipped them but saw them as purely functional. So she’d had a protein and slow-release energy drink, ready for her morning’s lesson.

Byron Alduun was a Jedi Knight who had agreed to show her the third form, Soresu. The other Padawans had suggested he was fluent with all forms with the lightsaber and was an excellent teacher. She’d observed a training session and noted his tendency to press (which seemed at odds to Fiach, given his usual demeanour) and thought that to learn defence against someone with this duelling preference would offer her the best schooling.

So, she waited at the arranged spot, a few minutes early, and performed her ritual cadences, as much to use the time as to warm up as Fiach hated to waste time and would always look to do something useful when in a queue or waiting – often astrological calculations or even meditation.

@Turtleneck
 
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Byron Alduun

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It wasn’t often that Byron would find a student waiting for him.

Punctuality had become almost a mantra for him, a prayer that he would utter every morning. It was something that he felt had been built into him like an implant. Artificial, but still, it was there. (His competitiveness was fierce, no matter how hard he tried to repress it. Instead, he utilised it in the menial parts of life. To give them meaning.) So when he saw the young padawan standing there in front of him, he would have been lying had he said that he wasn’t impressed at a first glance.

He had quickly scanned over her profile before arriving. “Padawan. You’re early,” he began, eyes uncontrollably scrutinising her appearance. It was something he had caught from his own master. Perhaps they were more alike than he had thought. Or, even worse, he was transforming into him. “I was told you asked for me specifically out of all the available teachers,” he said, hands folded behind his back. A curious question to be frank. He was young, with a bad track record as a padawan. (Particularly unsuitable to the patience of the third form.) Why him?

Regardless, he made the active choice of not mulling over the answer.

“You have your training saber with you I imagine?” he asked, spending no time in getting straight to the business at hand. His usual personality was hidden under the guise of a teacher. Shrouded in indifference, covered in stoicism.

The room wasn’t the largest training area. Eckaaso Shyn usually hogged the large ones for his relentless sessions, the occasional buzzing of training sabers whizzing down the corridor of a soon-to-be closed door. He undid his outer robe, revealing comfortable training garments underneath.

“Once you are ready,” he stated, slowly folding his robe and placing it into one of the built-in storage units. “I would like you to show me the opening stance for Soresu.” She seemed like a keen reader, or at least that was what he caught from looking over her profile on the datapad.

Good, that would make this easier.


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Fiach Dubh

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Fiach bowed as the Jedi Knight approached. It was customary but not every Padawan did so. Fiach, by default, liked rules and consistency and so bowed to Masters, Knights and Padawans alike when meeting them formally.

“I do not like to be late,” Fiach replied in a matter of fact tone. Her mouth formed a smile that seemed to be a reflection of a sunny disposition as opposed to a reaction to anything said or done. “Time is the one commodity credits cannot buy and as such, I see it as precious and therefore a disservice to you to not be on time.”

She listened as the Knight spoke again.

“Yes, I asked for you specifically for a number of reasons. Firstly, you are versatile with all Forms. Secondly, your preferred style — from my limited experience — is the opposite of the third Form. As my logical mind sees it, I have been trained to date in the Form by someone who believes it is the best Form. Not just for me, but regards it as better than any other. Often this leads to a blinkered view of a Form’s weakness. You, by contrast, can teach me from a combatants perspective. From the point of view of someone who is looking to break down the Soresu defence, and from a variety of Forms. This will teach me how different combatants would approach defeating a Form III duellist.”

As she spoke, she removed her robe to reveal standard issue Jedi garments underneath. Fiach really was a purist. She folded her cloak neatly and showed the Jedi Knight her training saber. “I change it every few days. I want to get the feel of different hilts before deciding on the one that best suits my grip.”

She closed her eyes momentarily, which was her way of connecting deeply with the Force. When they snapped back open, she felt calm and nodded to show she’d heard the Jedi Knight.

Bowing first, she activated the saber with a snap-hiss and a green hue illuminated the area around her. Then she held the blade back in a one-handed grip, angled forwards with her right arm, her blade arm, held parallel. As was customary, her left hand was extended and held up, as if to issue a challenge. Her right, dominant, foot was positioned back while her left was extended forwards and to the side in a brace position. “I favour this opening stance, but have used the drop-parry position at times.”
 

Byron Alduun

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“Good,” he said, challengingly. “Because neither do I.” There was something calming about mirroring yourself with someone else. It put them both on equal footing, sweeping any history and titles aside. Just a couple of students, eager to learn.

He replied to the padawan’s reasoning, “Makes sense to me.” Sometimes, it was more poignant for you to only utter a couple of words. Her reason for choosing him was sound enough and, if he were honest, it was flattering to be selected specifically before all of his peers.

Inspecting eyes glowered over her training saber. “If there was ever a time to be selective, now is it.” Training sabers were expendable to say the least. He could remember how many he would break in a month, having to drag his feet back to Oren to request a new one. Only to be met with those blazing eyes, and an even fierier mouth, ash trickling out of the corner of his lips.

Byron circled around her observantly, using his feet to hook around her ankles and pull them into the correct placement. “Very good, you know the foundations of Soresu’s stance,” he said, once he had finished moulding her into the perfect stance. Well, perfect by the books anyway.

“Give me the form’s primary strength, and, most importantly, it’s primary weakness.”

It was all well and good to have a master who preferred a form but, just as the padawan had noted earlier, it was invaluable to know your weaknesses too. Everyone had an Achilles’ heel, it was those who did their utmost to protect it that survived.


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Fiach Dubh

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Fiach remained still as the Knight considered her stance and made a few minor adjustments. She would readily agree with him that her approach was by the book — it always was. But she was beginning to really appreciate the benefit of personal tuition that allowed her to grow beyond the written word.

Of course, her next response was guaranteed to be word perfect — at least as far as the instructional texts go. “I would say the strength and weakness are one and the same. It is focused more on defence than attack.”

“But to give an additional response, I would say a key strength is its ability to counter blaster fire. And a weakness is the requirement to focus so intently. You need total concentration to be an effective Soresu practitioner.”
 
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