Fists of Fury (open)

She had had trouble sleeping last night. News of the growing Sith threat, rumors that the Council was meeting to discuss a plan of action,... troubling, to say the least. Elsie Therin was not sure whether to be apprehensive or excited. Perhaps both.

There is no reason to be afraid, she reassured herself as she took a sip of morning tea. I am an Echani warrior, a Guardian of the Jedi Order. If there are any enemies of the Republic and the Order, I will meet on the field of battle. My hands will fight and my blade will strike true.

She had been told that Master Rhissai would be holding a class that morning. She would no doubt have full knowledge of the latest news concerning the Council. That, and the actual subject matter that Rhissai would be teaching, gave Elsie all the reason she needed to go, and then some.

Unarmed combat was not something studied by most Jedi. The Force and a lightsaber together provided all the protection that most Jedi needed, and for them the time spent practicing those forms of combat were better spent studying history and politics, and delving into the deeper mysteries of the Force. But for an Echani like Elsie, unarmed combat was more than just a bunch of punches and kicks. It was communication, ritual and tradition, an important part of life.

Now strictly speaking, Elsie Therin had not been raised in traditional Echani culture. She had been at the Jedi Temple for as long as she could remember, and so grew up learning the values of the Jedi. But she had rediscovered her roots at the age of five, and the masters and teachers at the Temple not only allowed her to learn about her heritage, they actively encouraged it. Instructors had been found for her to teach her the traditional arts of Echani, a study that she had continued to this very day. Only recently, she had finally demonstrated her mastery of the second tier of Echani combat and allowed to begin learning the more advantaged moves of the third.

Master Rhassai wouldn't be teaching Echani combat, but like all Echani, Elsie knew that just learning moves would only get you so far. You had to know how to apply them, to be able to use them effectively and creatively in order to triumph against the opponent. With lightsabers, Elsie often sparred with many different Jedi around the Temple. Learning and adapting to different styles, trying to observe and then anticipate an opponent's moves, that was how she grew as a saberist. With unarmed combat it was the same principle.

The door to the training room slid open, and she stepped inside, greeting Master Rhissai, touching her fist to her palm and bowing slightly.

Unlike most Jedi, Tuljima slept in whenever he could, like when there wasn't a mission going on. There wasn't any particular reason for this; he simply liked the idea of flaunting tradition in that small way, as compared to the larger ways he flaunted it more regularly. Then again he was a simpleton among Jedi, and easily pleased regardless.

Yet, today, he got up at a more normal hour, for one reason: Master Rhissai's class. The tall Knight's understanding of unarmed fighting was basic at best, the ubiquitous Broken Gate system of joint locks taught to all Jedi who cared to learn it combined with the primitive brawling he'd picked up over years of mingling with scum. He much preferred his other weapons, his dragon-tooth lightsaber, his fancy sword and tricked-out blaster, but he wasn't averse to expanding.

So here he was, up at a reasonable hour, wearing clean robes for once as he ambled down the halls from the cafeteria. He had left his sword and his gun back at his quarters, taking only his 'saber; not that he would need it today, but it was nice to maintain appearances. He'd even bothered shaving, believe it or not.

Though, come to think of it he had another reason for going. Rumors of war had been circulating freely throughout the Temple, and the Sith were prominently mentioned; the Chancellor had been assassinated, planets and systems taken over out on the Rim. Many wondered when, or if, the Jedi would step in. Tuljima was no historian by any means, but even he knew the story of Revan, of the Council's inaction during those chaotic times. He wasn't enough of a thinker to philosophize upon what it meant, but it couldn't have been any good; if the Council today was intent on repeating those ancient mistakes he wasn't sure what he would have done.

Fortunately, those rumors also mentioned a group of Jedi, led by dissident Councilors, who were intent upon meeting the Sith's rush with their own in order to save lives and end the war as quickly as possible. That was something Tuljima could agree with, and he wanted to ask Rhissai, if the chance came up, about that wayward band. So he walked into the training hall, and bowed to the meditating Master. "Mas'er Rhissai, Knigh' Gunslingah reportin'," he said as he straightened up.

Locke Nemsee strode casually through the halls of the Temple. Today he had risen with the sun, as he always did, and done his usual checking of various news sources and things like that; an Investigator had to stay up to date on the latest happenings in the Republic, after all. After that, he had made his way to the Temple's cafeteria for a short breakfast. And now he was heading to a training room.

Today would be different than his normal days. Normally, he would be heading to meet his padawan, Jazen Solari for their normal daily training, but today, he had pushed that back into the evening. No, this morning Locke would be a student once more, under the tutelage of High Councilwoman Rhissai'arckan. He had seen the Councilwoman here and there, though he had never taken a class under her. First time for everything, eh? he thought as he rounded a corner. Today he, and a few other Jedi, he suspected, would be learning unarmed combat from Rhissai. He was decent enough at unarmed combat; he wasn't great at it, nor was he bad. But it was always a good to augment one's knowledge of such things.

But despite his outward appearance of calm, there was a bit of turmoil inside of him. War is upon us, he thought solemnly. And yet we hide in our halls when we should be defending those we swear to protect. The Sith incursion into the galaxy was on everyone's lips, and there was a bit of tension throughout the Temple. There were rumors, quietly spoken in the corners of the Temple, that some Jedi were preparing to go out to meet the Sith head on. In defiance of the Council, and lead by some members of the Council at that. Locke knew what he felt of that. They need only call me and I will answer. Locke shook his head sadly. I only hope this will not splinter us as Revan did.

But that would be for later. Now he needed to focus on the class ahead of him. Locke had left his cloak in his quarters, wearing only his sandy brown and cream colored robes, though he still wore his blaster pistol and lightsaber. His dark hair was clean, and he had trimmed up his short beard a bit; it wouldn't do to go before a member of the council looking like a slob, after all. He rounded a final corner, and after a walk down another hall, stepped into the training room. There, in the center of the room was the Councilwoman, and he noticed that a few others had arrived before him.

He did his usual greeting, a lazy salute with two fingers quickly touched to his forehead and moved in the direction of the one he was greeting. "Hello Rhissai, I hope this morning finds you well," he said amiably. He wasn't a man for titles, and didn't use them to refer to anyone else, regardless of their rank, nor did he want anyone to call him by a title. He had gotten in trouble for it before, but he could deal with being chewed out. Locke looked at the others in the room other than Rhissai, and nodded a greeting to them as well.

((sorry for the delay. Was giving other people ample opportunity to join up wif' us. That, and I was just too lazy xD))

Luckily, the woman didn't have to wait especially long for the first person to arrive, an Echani female. It did not surprise the raven maned woman that one of her kind appeared at her class, as unarmed fighting and martial arts were the center of the silver haired race's culture. Not that the Echani culture was the Jedi, but it was generally safe to assume that one had at least read up on their own race.

Rhissai had done just that when she was younger, she was horrified at what she saw... but she had done it all the same. To think that the race she came from was one that was one that centered herself around fighting and conflict, calling itself honorable despite the fact that factions rape and pillage each other. What made it even worse was that she became one of them all those years ago, back when she fell from the Order and took refuge within the racially bigoted confines of Aphithir.

The woman matched Elsie's movements, pressing a closed fist into her open palm. "Welcome, we just have to wait for a few more to arrive," she said, bowing her upper body ever so slightly. Rhiss honestly hated having to speak uptight and proper, the woman always thought that she sounded like she had a stick up her arse.

Not long after the arrival of the Echani another man stepped through the door, this one looked to be somewhat messy and rather tall... not to mention skinny. It was Tuljima. It hadn't been so long since the mission to Bakura, the same one that had caused the Order to lose a rather large amount of Agricorps workers. "Hello Tuljima," she greeted him. Titles made her skin crawl, especially the ones that entailed her not using one's first name. Coincidentally, most titles required her to use the person's last name rather than their first.

Then the third and final person stepped into the room, Locke Nemesee, she had met the man but a few days before in the room of a thousand fountains with Talau. A near indestinguishable smile etched across her face briefly, "hello Locke, and thank you. It does," the answer was, of course, a rhetorical one. Recent events had caused the woman to simply cease sleeping and take to meditating as a form of rest. Rhissai found it hard to find her center, making it nigh impossible to get the full rest of a night in the meditation chambers.

"Well, you're all here to learn a few unarmed combat moves I'd surmise? Heh... don't plan on this 'class' being like your usual kata training class. I'm going to show you how to actually apply what you learn to combat, not just have you move through the motions against nothing but air." She paused for a moment, crossing her arms so that they made an "X" at the wrist. "This, is the arcka'mai, or the Dog Catcher. Don't ask me why they named it that, because I honestly have no clue."

She uncrossed her arms and swept her eyes across the three, "you'll find that nssis'drrn is an awful versitile 'art,' if one could call it that. Basically, it focuses on dirty fighting and tactically-smart moves to ensure victory. Its like the juyo of martial arts," she smirked at the thought. While it wasn't entirely wrong... it wasn't entirely right either. She looked at the Echani, "forgive me, but what is your name," she asked. After which she motioned to the area next to her"Step here please, and draw your lightsaber. Attack me when you're ready."

Late. Late. Late. The thought pressed into her head like a crushing vice with every step she took in her quickened pace through the oddly solitary halls of the temple. Some things she honestly and truly did not like, even in the slightest degree, and her absolute punctuality was ranked highly in this case. Turning up late for something important like a meeting or, in this specific case, a training session, was disrespectful and showed detrimental lack of self discipline. It would be incredibly easy to attribute her tardy behaviour to Rein, her padawan, who had needed explicit instruction on how to spend his day prior to her leaving. Not wanting to be dismissive or short with the young Miraluka, she had informed him thoroughly of what she intended to do, and that he would be best engaging himself in independent study so that he could be better equipped for his own training. She would attend the session and impart her knowledge upon her padawan when it came closer to the time for him to be considering the way of aggressive or unarmed combat. His body was hardly going to be one that would take much in the way of physical combat, or at least from what her observations could perceive, so she was partly pressed to teach the boy defensive styles like Niman and Soresu, which she knew. Range of ability was only ever a pro however.

Rounding another empty corner she further developed her hastened walk into something that would be into jogging were it infinitesimally faster. Her reason for not breaking into a faster boundary of movement was hardly worthy of the standard of rationality. In her mind, she knew that if she turned up haggard and worn she'd be looked upon with questionable glances and maybe even ignored partly. Or worse, pitied. At least if she maintained her appearance it would be worthy of some sort of reprieve from the emotions that plagued her social interactions. An outsider's opinion on the case would have brought to the Jedi Knight's attention, however, the particular lack of strict order in her hairstyle and the billowing of her robes as they caught the air around her like a wonderfully successful fishing net. It suggested something abnormal about the walking figure who clearly had to get to an important location, and yet was not travelling with the utmost urgency that was required of the scene. Arriving at the door to the training room at last, she found herself pausing at the entrance, not daring to enter the room for fear of immediate rejection.

How late was she? She had no idea. Maybe she'd gotten the time wrong entirely as well as being extra late. One hour? Two? Were they getting to fine detail at the moment, which would not benefit in the slightest from her intrusion? The thoughts barraged her mind relentlessly in the instant that she forced herself to cease moving before the large, denying door. The momentum fought against her with overwhelming fury, ordering another stepping stumble forwards. Reactively placing the next step, she watched in dreaded horror as the doors hissed open to reveal the room populated by other Jedi who were clearly currently in the middle of something. Biting her lip she considered leaving quickly and pretending it wasn't her who had disrupted the important instructive lesson being conducted by the experienced Master. But... but if she left now then she'd not learn the combative technique that could benefit her to a great extent. A technique that was really a potential bonus to her lightsaber proficiency.

Stepping awkwardly forward she brought her arms up defensively around her stomach, holding herself protectively in the presence of the others who had succeeded in arriving on time and without interruption. Walking decidedly slowly she could hear the dreaded thundering of her footsteps as she paced towards the gathered group, pausing just off to the side and away from the others, her eyes daring to look across and view the participants, all of whom were unfamiliar to her but one.
"Elsie?" The young Jedi woman's name wandered out of her lips in a sliver of speech that was no more than a whisper. Somehow she'd not expected to see her former teammate so soon after their Metellos mission, and yet being here was something that made perfect sense in a way. Unarmed combat, Echani Jedi, it was as compatible as sword training and swords really. Taking just one step closer at the presence of the familiar face she took comfort in the knowledge that she was not in complete isolation from the group.

[...from Wilting Reservations]



Xierra had felt a little rude at leaving her new padawan alone so soon after accepting him as a student, but the prospect of unarmed combat couldn't hold her up any longer. It had been too long since she had fought with anything besides her lightsaber and the Force. Thoughts of hand-to-hand combat brought her back to her days as a youngling in the Temple, where the Masters had her attend those classes hoping to curb her intense energy. She had realized also at that early age that such skills would be useful for a Jedi. Sometimes one's lightsaber or the Force--as she had learned recently a couple week's prior on Metellos--wouldn't be available. If a Jedi couldn't fight without their crutches, they wouldn't be worth much as a Jedi in her line of thought.

And so she had sent little Zorn off to the library to do some reading up on the various lightsaber styles and their practical uses. The Falleen Knight was hoping to quiz the Zabrak later about which forms to use in which situations. Perhaps during the exercise she would get a feeling for which style of combat he was more suited for.

She now found herself walking quite briskly through the halls of the training and schooling area of the Temple. Xierra was attired in her normal clothing--brown robes and more beige-colored underclothing, her lightsabers attached to her belt and her black hair hung loosely around her shoulders, not encumbered by her hook which lay against her back.

Focusing entirely on the lesson ahead, she didn't notice Val slipping into the room just after he. It seemed Xierra had missed the introductions, but she nodded in respect all the same to the teacher whom she recognized as one of the Council Members, Master Arckan. The Apithirian female was just beginning her opening statement, so the Falleen Knight quickly moved to the back of the room, her attention solely on the teacher, not the other students. Xierra was eager to learn some new techniques she could add to her already fairly large repertoire of unarmed moves.

The Falleen allowed a smile to cross her greenish repitilian features as Rhissai described the art they were about to learn as 'dirty.' She knew it wasn't very Jedi-like of her, but Xierra didn't mind a bit of fighting that would be considered a very gray area for members of the Jedi Order. She had fought that way as a youngling, before her more structured lessons, before Master Revisc had honed her skills.

It was then, as Master Arckan called one of the Jedi to attack her, that Xierra finally glanced at the other students. To her surprise, Val and Elsie were in the room with her, the Knights from her mission. In fact, she had just spent some time with the Echani a few days earlier, in learning some of Niman. It hadn't even crossed her mind that anyone she would know would be attending the lesson, but now that she thought about it, it made complete sense. They were probably here for similar reasons, if not exactly, as Xierra was.

The other two Knights, though, she didn't recognize, and so she didn't throw them a little smile as she did to Val and Elsie before the Echani Knight stepped up to meet their teacher's challenge. Xierra focused her entire self on what would be to come. She was here to learn, and as she had been with Elsie's Niman lesson, she was taking this completely seriously.

She didn't know the next two who entered the room, but the two after that were familiar to her. Val Adeera and Xierra Zalq, the three of them had participated together in a mission to Metellos, and she had even spent some time sparring with the latter after their return to the Temple.

"Elsie Therin," she said, giving her name to Master Rhissai, and listened as the master began describe the form that she would be teaching. The juyo of martial arts... that was an interesting comparison. She supposed that if she had to make some sort of analogy of the martial arts that she currently practiced with a saber form, it would have to be Niman, a form which she also practiced in extensively. Observe the opponent, analyze and anticipate their moves, react efficiently and adapt accordingly, avoid relying on rote, predictable movements... It was said that the best among the Echani warriors possessed seemingly psychic abilities when it came to predicting moves, seemingly able to intercept the movements of opponents before they even began, and retaliating with massive amounts of punishment. Elsie wasn't anywhere near this level yet however. But she still had many years ahead of her. Maybe she would reach it someday.

Of course, for any fighting style, rote movements were essential to learning the basics and building a solid foundation, which was what Rhissai seemed to be doing now, showing them a basic position. Elsie wasn't quite sure what sort of moves would come from this position, though she could make a few pretty good guesses.

She drew her lightsaber at Master Rhissai's request, silver blade blazing to life with a distinctive snap-hiss. Her first stroke was a simple one. Rhissai obviously wanted to give a demonstration the principles and applications of the move, so there was no need for anything overly fancy at the moment, just a standard horizontal slash, mid-torso height.

There was no shame in Sellah's countenance as she slipped into the room. Her muzzle was relaxed, her tail curled to stay off the floor, her shoulders rolled back. That could not, however, be misinterpreted as an inculpability concerning responsibility for her tardiness. She had spotted her old master, Trillian, in the hall, and had been reminded of a burning question. They had talked longer than she had expected, but his words had been as a salve to that burn, and now as she entered the class, she was at peace.

And with a practiced subtlety all Jedi seemed to possess (or at least as subtle as a Selonian could ever be,) Sellah joined the fringes of the Gathered students. A silver light glinted across her golden eyes as her ears were greeted by the eager hiss of a saber blade. This particular hiss was subdued, artful... perhaps the Jedi was as well. Sellah paused a moment to remark at just how much a saber could reveal about a Jedi. Trillian had ever had a love for the core crystals, and he had done his best to at least impart an appreciation upon his Padawan. Her ears she trusted more than her eyes, however, and Sellah had discovered every saber had a voice. Slowly, ever so slowly, she was beginning to learn the patterns of that language. Now, she could only make out bits and pieces, phrases, and hope that her guesses were right. Failure taught her as much as success.

With rapt attention, Sellah watched the fight begin, muscles rippling under the dense layer of her short, dark-chestnut fur. She had not expected to see a saber in an unarmed class, but Sellah had learned long ago to never be surprised by a Jedi master; so full of layers and quirks they were. Sellah herself was a simple one, and could never picture herself being nearly so enigmatic. If she ever became a master, she would speak things as they were, facts and things of importance, the proper lot. She'd never be able to learn to speak much, and say little, which was what gave so many Jedi their social subtlety. And that was why she was not a diplomat, or a negotiator; Sellah Bellae did not mince words.

Sellah was not usually a thinker, but she'd been pondering things now more than ever before. It was what had fueled that question for Trillian to burn so wildly. And now, she considered the fact that to her, unarmed combat probably meant something quite different to her, than it did to the others assembled. Sellah was never without her stout claws, and her well-developed fangs, and her irrepressible refusal to ever give up. What she was eager for today, was to slip a few more tricks up her proverbial sleeve, and learn another way to interpret the opponent. Passion ignited a fervor with her, a fervor to learn, to devour all lessons set before her. To listen, to absorb, to apply; they held her mind in rapt, unbreakable attention. It was the very passions denied to Jedi, that drove Sellah so strongly toward the light. She was a paradox, though she did not know it; Sellah rarely, if ever, considered the philosophical, least of all now.

Now, all that stood were the teacher, the lesson, and the Force, and these three things dominated her mind, as she watched to see how Rhissai would respond to the simple swing...

Rhissai returned his greeting as others came into the room, and Tuljima moved to the side to make room. He vaguely knew Locke, but the others were unfamiliar to him so he just nodded to each person and listened intently to Rhissai's lecture on what they were going to learn that day. 'Dirty fighting,' she said. In Tuljima's experience there wasn't any other way; when lives were on the line, possibly your own with them, you had to do everything you could do to stop the threat. Honor be damned, in other words.

Strangely, she asked one of the others, an Echani by the looks of her, to pull her lightsaber and attack. Tuljima recognized Niman in her stance and her movements, and nodded; he himself was an Ataru fighter, its acrobatics and powerful attacks matching his own mindset and mentality. He wasn't by any means the most cerebral of Jedi, in fact he was rarely cerebral at all. He preferred to act on instinct and muscle memory, strength and speed to conquer his opponents as opposed to speeches and intricate powers.

As Elsie attacked, Tuljima practiced the stance Rhissai had showed them just earlier, crossing his arms at the wrists and experimenting with a few variations on that. "Ehh," he muttered noncommitally, wondering what it could do. Presumably it was some sort of defensive posture, but wasn't it a bit too drawn in for that? Oh well, what did he know.

Just then the door opened behind them, and Tuljima turned to behold another master, Sellah Bellae. At least, he thought she was a master; he never could tell amidst the many myriad mortals who meandered the murky miles of the Temple. Wow, that was poetic; perhaps he needed to write a book. "Many myriad miles," he muttered under his breath, nodding at Sellah and turning back to watch the lesson again.

((x.x Rhissai is NOT liking me.))

The jedi master gave a curt nod at the Echani woman's name, Elsie Therin. Of course, it wasn't long before the woman drew her silver lightsaber and threw a simple swing at her mid torso. Nothing about the swing was over eccentric... and neither was anything about Rhissai's reaction. She allowed her arms to fall back into the "X" that she showed the 'class' not a few minutes before. From there, she caught Elsie's arm in between her hands. In one simple movement she slid her hands down to the Echani's wrist and gripped it semi-tightly... there was no need for anything more. Rhiss used the energy from the swing, which wasn't entirely much, to assist her in moving the arm up high enough for her to pass through.

As she passed under the arm the woman tried to pull Elsie's with her so that her lightsaber would be behind her back. After this was accomplished, Rhissai took the sabber from her grasp and gave her a light boot-to-the-buttocular region. It took but the simple flip of a switch to sheathe the silver sun, and a flick of the wrist to show Elsie the butt-end of the hilt. Once she handed the saber to the woman (with a smile of course) Rhiss promptly turned to the group, which had grown during this small maneuver.

"See? Fairly simple. Now, seeing as practicing katas against the air is a little boring... why doesn't everyone pair up. What I just did isn't the extent of the little art, not by a long shot, but it just about as complex as it tends to get."

She wondered briefly how those crossing arm motions Master Arckan had just demonstrated to them would have any effect on an attack with a lightsaber. Xierra was optimistic and knew the master was gifted, but she was a little unsure. Though, she kept her mind open to her counter-attack, curious. She knew how she would have countered the attack, probably with something more acrobatic, not trying to slap away a live saber.

Xierra didn't have to wait long to see the master's reaction to Elsie's slash. Everything happened so fast that she wasn't sure she completely understand what had happened. The Falleen closed her eyes briefly, trying to relive the encounter in her mind. She got a better idea of what Master Arckan did but not a complete idea. Hopefully they would get more demonstrations, more moves to try, perhaps in more deliberate, slower moves.

Still trying to figure out what had just happened in front of her with Elsie and Master Arckan, Xierra barely noticed that their teacher was handing back Elsie her lightsaber. Not only had she blocked the attack, she had disarmed her opponent? She could barely contain her surprise. Or her excitement. Despite not knowing how exactly it had been accomplished, this was something the Falleen Jedi really did want to learn. Her former master had always taught her that disabling an attacker was the best form of defense, violence only as a last resort. This was the best from of avoiding violence, if she could use the same tactic against other weapons.

Curious and eager to get to practice what they learned, and hopefully more things the Apithiri master would show them, Xierra looked around at the other students, the Knights in the room. Her glance briefly flickered over Val and Elsie. Though she could now call them friends after their ordeal on Metellos, she decided she should branch out, hopefully find someone who couldn't predict her moves as well.

The Falleen's black eyes came across a human male, someone she figured to be roughly the same age as she, bearded and wearing a blaster. The blaster seemed a bit odd for a Jedi, she thought, but nevertheless, she approached him. With a nod she introduced herself, "Xierra Zalq."

{I feel a short, crappy post coming D:}

Locke had watched some of the others arrive from his position leaning on the wall. He did not recognize any of the newcomers, at least as far as he could remember, anyway. As they filed in, Rhissai called one of them forward, an Echani by the name of Elsie. His eyebrows raised in surprise a bit when the Councilwoman asked Elsie to draw her blade. I hope she doesn't screw up, he thought snidely. That would be so... tragic, among other things. A sly smirk crossed his face. He knew nothing would happen to Rhissai-she was teaching them after all, and it would hardly do for her to get her arms cut off before they learned anything. But oh, how his mind wandered sometimes...

But there was no need to speculate on what would happen if something went wrong, because the exchange began and went through without a hitch. Locke nodded as he watched. Ah, I think I got that. Seems simple enough. With a bit of practice, I might be able to teach it to Jazen... His mind returned to the room when Rhissai told them to partner up. He continued to lean on the wall, looking to see who was around to partner up with.

To his surprise, he was approached by a female Jedi, a Falleen by the looks of it, and a bit taller than he. He gave his usual lazy two-fingered salute to her as he stood up off of the wall, and chuckled a bit as he saw her eyes linger just a moment normal than longer on his pistol. "Aye, you don't see many of us with these do ya," he said warmly as he patted the pistol. "The name's Locke Nemsee, pleasure to meet you." Locke looked around the room, observing what the others were doing for a moment before turning back to face Xierra again. "Well, I guess we'll be beating each other up today, then," he said before laughing once more.

Tey Shaak woke sitting up in his bed groggily and rubbing his head, making all sorts of unseemly morning noises as he did so.
He'd thoroughly enjoyed himself last night and the results of his fun were causing his head to throb painfully. He slowly got up and walked over to the refresher, dropping his robes as he walked. After a shower and taking the Coruscanti version of Tylenol, he dressed himself in his normal white robes before pulling on his new blue robes that indicated his knighthood. A broad smile split his face as he looked at the robes for a full minute, thinking back on his trials and the Knighting Ceremony. Then his face drained of all color as he remembered something.

Tey Shaak arrived back at the temple a week ago, since that time he'd been busy, preparing to take his Jedi Knighthood Trials. He'd only taken them the day before yesterday and been Knighted yesterday morning. He was now a Knight of the Jedi Order and he couldn't be happier. He'd spent last night celebrating with his friend Locke Nesmee and they'd stayed out a little too late, catching up with what the two of them had been up to. It'd been three years since Tey Shaak was shipped out by the Reassighnment Council, and then to the Exploration Corps to be flown to the far end of the galaxy. That was where he met his tutor, a Jedi Consular by the name of Nobby Lubimbo, a disabled Twi'lek Archaelogist. "Nobby" as he'd come to be called only had one lekku, a result of a battle wound during his youth. Tey had learned through Locke of a martial arts class that was taking place this very morning.

Tey looked at his chrono and cursed audibly, something he'd picked up from Locke, before throwing his blue Knight robe on and clipping his lightsaber to his belt and Force speeding through the halls of the Temple after the door to his room had opened. Gods! I'm so late! Of all the things to befall me! I'm late for once! Gods I'm late!! Tey thought as he bounded from pillar to pillar with help from the force and then lept over the side rail dropping a good two stories before halting his fall and landing gently on the bottom floor. From there he sped off to where the class was being held. He regretted his actions in the hallway but, he was already late and he didn't want to be any later.

He skidded to a halt outside the door and walked in breathing heavily, catching the ending manuever of a disarming move the teacher was showing the class. Tey breathed in deeply for a few seconds, trying to get his pulse to slow, as he walked into the room, raising a hand in silent apology to the instructor with his face beaming embarassment. He looked over and spotted Locke almost immediatly, recognizing his presence in the force. Tey smiled and shook his head, clearly embarassed, before giving Locke his own lazy two fingered salute in greeting. He walked over to his friend and said "So, what have I missed?" To his further embarassment he didn't even notice the Falleen female making her way over and accidentily bumped into her as they crossed paths.

He looked to her, his face turning a brighter orange than before and shyly apologized "Oh! I'm so sorry miss. It's been a rather interesting morning for me. I guess I'm still a little out of it from last night. Please accept my apologes. My name is Tey Shaak" he stretched out his hand hoping she'd accept his apology.

Sellah now faced a challenge, a challenge brought on by the words, 'Now pair up'. She skimmed the room, and now pondered the fact that the only in attendance were near-humans, save for a Togruta who had just huffed in. Most near-humans did not present a challenge to Sellah. There was no arrogance in this thought, for Sellah it was only fact. While she'd have no use for her fangs in a training class, her claws were stout and sharp. She trained with as much fervor as she fought. A well-placed strike could carry her claws puncturing through skin and muscle alike, and the Selonian had enough respect for her classmates to at least attempt to avoid that sort of situation. That was, of course, not to mention that her lean, mustuline body was corded with dense muscle, placing her a good deal stronger than most of her near-human counterparts.

Though Sellah wasn't much of a thinker, she was certainly capable of simple math, and she realized that the arrival of the new Togruta brought the total number of students up to 7, which meant there'd be one left over. Sellah, being -- of course -- a Selonian, was the natural pick for odd-one-out. Not being much of a leader herself, she took a few steps closer to master Rhissai, making sure to think 'loudly', (However it was that worked), so that the master might pick up on her intent. It wasn't really something she understood, but she did what she'd been taught, and it worked. In fact, that encompassed most of her skills with the Force...

Excepting, that is, those that required it to flow through her. That she could both feel and understand... allowing the Force to move through her muscles, her movements and her actions, traced through the air as an extension of herself, driving the basic instincts of her psyche, conscious thought falling to the wind, insignificant...

But ah, she was getting carried away. If she wanted Master Rhissai to pick up on what it was she intended, she would have to focus. And so Sellah did.

Tucking away the brief surprise she had felt in the human's Force presence for later, she nodded at his 'explanation' of his extra weapon and introduction of himself. Xierra didn't want to take the time to think about whether he was surprised at her selection of him for practice or something more deeper than that. After all, they were both Jedi Knights and equals.

But the blaster he carried worried her slightly. Not because she thought he would use it. She very much doubted that. And if he did, she would feel the intention through the Force in enough time to defend herself or move. No, she was worried, instead of curious, because he was a part of the Jedi Order. And in her experience and teachings, Jedi needed no other weapon besides the Force and their bodies and lightsaber, extensions of the Force.

Xierra pushed those thoughts away, though. There was something much more pressing in the past. She considered his last words and smiled, knowing her sharp teeth would show past her greenish gray lips. If she had thought him funny, she would have laughed in reply. But she didn't. No matter that this class was only practice. The Falleen Jedi was taking this very seriously. Anything to help her strengthen her own well versed knowledge of martial arts and hand-to-hand combat.

By way of answer, she chose to remain silent, instead shrugging back her shoulders and letting her robe to the floor, leaving her in tunics and trousers, two lightsabers belted at the waist, normal Jedi wear. Xierra started stretching then, loosening up her muscles, first in her legs, then in her arms. Her master had always taught her to do her exercises if at all possible to decrease the chances of personal injury. Even with the Force, accidents happened. And Xierra also knew that the Force wasn't a crutch. If it disappeared--like on Metellos with the ysalamir--she wanted to be able to defend herself just as equally without it.

Her last action was cracking her knuckles, her long fingers with the pointed nails intertwining. Xierra was thinking of something to say then when something jostled her. Belatedly, she wished she had kicked her robes closer to the side of the room, so this other Jedi wouldn't have tripped over them. This time her smile acknowledging Tey was more on the friendly side than the one she had graced Locke with. "Don't worry about it. It's good to meet you." She held out one of her greenish gray hands to clasp the Togruta's briefly. "Xierra Zalq."

She turned back to Locke then, hoping he would dismiss his friend so they could get on with putting Master Arckan's teachings into practice. Xierra knew she was rusty in unarmed combat, having relied too heavily in the past few months on her lightsaber. Hopefully these lessons and new skills, applied to her current repertoire, would brush her up quite quickly.

Tey Shaak shook Xierra's hand and smiled, grateful that he hadn't caused a problem. He looked down momentarily at the robes at his feet and chuckled to himself in further embarassment. Quite the entrance I made eh Locke? How are you this morning my friend? Tey sent to his friend as he picked Xierra's robes up through the force and deposited them at the wall behind Locke, before moving onto the front of the class, after excusing himself politely.
Tey had no idea how much of the class' first manuever he'd missed and so thought better to ask the teacher and maybe I can apologize for being so late while I'm up there Tey thought as he strode through the class.

He walked calmly up to black haired woman and bowed respectfully "Please excuse my tardiness, I had something of a late night last night. My name is Tey Shaak, might I ask what I've missed?" he said as he straightened up and extended his hand in greeting. It would be apparent to anyone looking at him that he wasn't used to being late like he was. His voice trembled slightly as he was clearly embarassed still by the whole ordeal.

Her strike had been relatively slow, and too close, but still brief flash of red appeared on Elsie's cheeks as Rhissai went through her move. It was a bit embarrassing to be disarmed like that, even if it was only for a demonstration.

Simple and practical. That was how Elsie would have described the move. It hadn't turned out quite the same as she had anticipated, though she had been close. Sorta. But as soon as she got back up, already her mind was analyzing the move, thinking of applications, weaknesses, openings.

She quickly scanned the others when Master Rhissai instructed everyone to partner up. Xierra and Val she already knew. The others were strangers to her. Her eyes paused for a moment on the blaster of the one who called himself Locke, though it was as much due to the slight look of surprise on Xierra's face as to the actual blaster itself. It was indeed an odd weapon for a Jedi to be carrying around inside the Temple. Elsie understood the need to be discreet on certain missions, where a lightsaber would be a dead giveaway, and it was generally understood that Jedi who regularly underwent such missions to have at least a basic knowledge of some other form of combat. For Elsie, that other form of combat happened to be melee weapons. She kept a small collection of Echani vibroblades in her room, which she practiced with often, though unlike that man, she did not have any of her non-lightsaber weapons with her today.

Xierra had paired with that Locke fellow, and Val seemed to considering one of the others. Another Jedi approached Master Rhissai, a Selonian. She seemed to be trying to communicate something to the master, though Elsie could not tell what it was. Elsie wasn't sure how Selonians typically fought. Their physiology was different enough from near-humans like herself that movements used by one didn't always translate easily to the other. But the unknown was part of the challenge, wasn't it?

She took a step forward, pressed right fist to left palm in her standard salute, and introduced herself to the Selonian. "I'm Elsie Therin. Would you be willing to be partners for this next exercise?"

Her silvery-blue eyes flashed to observe the motion of the Jedi Master's hands as they drew in the attacker's blade and disabled her opponent. A thought immediately crossed her mind at the maneuver as it the attack was disabled.
What if the opponent twists the blade? Surely you'll lose an arm? Contorting her mouth slightly, she nevertheless intended to try this to see how much danger she would be leaving herself open to if she were to attempt to block in this way. Maybe a step forward to bring herself further out of the path of the blade, or moving around the blade as it travelled would give her an edge. Momentum and the way a blade moved, that would be what could give her an edge, but now was not the time for that. The Jedi were splitting up into pairs and she could identify a few of them. Xierra was with a human, Elsie with the Selonian, and with a sigh she found that the other remaining Togruta had joined Master Rhissai's side.

Knowing that there was no better way to learn than from a master, she didn't make her thoughts known, instead turning away and finding her own space where she could engage in her own training. The pale skin fluttered softly down to cover the eyes, shrouding her world in darkness, and it was from here that she felt the Force closer, like a fog that was around her in every direction. The mind processed the movements she had just witnessed, the steps and hand motions. Start with crossed wrists, move into the arm, hold the blade steady, move around, disarm and kick away. Then she would be armed, and they would not. Exhaling softly, she took up the position for the start and moved through the motions slowly, stepping forward and to the side, raising her arms, switching her body position so that she was on the other side of where the hissing blade would be hovering, and brought the arms around as though she were dragging a limb behind some figure's back. She kicked with the left leg, then found she preferred the right, and made a note to use that instead.

Releasing the imaginary grips on the arms of the non-existent figure, she moved away and wandered for a few paces before adopting the stance once more. Crossed arms and closed eyes that allowed all other focuses to be forgotten. She knew she was nowhere near the other members, could feel their Force signatures, and knew that they were not in danger of being hit by one of her blind movements. Alone, she envisioned her own training partner. Just a faceless Jedi in a robe. A dark robe, and a red saber. Exhaling once more, the cross on her wrists became firm as her mental training partner brought his saber swinging around at her. It drew closer, and her arms and body surged forward to take up the arm, the right hand sliding towards his hairy wrist. Locking off and unable to move the hand any further down over the fist, her body took itself under his arm, the free hand swiping the saber from his grasp as she offered a strong kick to where his behind would be. The vision disappeared at the success, and she sighed, annoyed.

Sure, things worked when you tried alone, but it was different to practicing with a partner. All she could do at the moment would be to try and keep going until she got a chance to practice with someone. The eyes broke open slowly, squinting for a second as the golden sunlight pierced them like sharp needles, and the tight leg she had just kicked with was stretched out as she observed the other groups a moment. Glancing down at her own lightsaber, and then thinking back to Rein, she flexed her fingers and adopted the wrist cross again, flicking the eyes shut as she prepared to run the exercise again with the Dark Jedi foe from her memories. His saber hummed before her and she tensed, ready to receive his arm and deliver another kick. A faster kick, with swifter movements, and she'd ensure he felt it this time too. It's what he deserved for plotting to sway her to the dark side.