Post by Pembleton on Jul 21, 2014 2:29:46 GMT -5
Claws raked against metal with a screech. The room was heavy with the smell of ozone, blasterfire still rang out and scorched the air as it streaked towards him. The prey, now minus one member of its pack, clustered at the far end of the training mat, putting up a solid wall of plasma to keep him away. Most of the shots at that distance went wide, and he focused only on the ones he absolutely needed to dodge or deflect; green blade humming and sparking, Tesok advanced, step by step, into the fire.
His mind was clear, and he was in that deep place where fear, uncertainty, and frustration had no hold on him. He was empty; the perfect conduit for the Force to flow through and affect its will. His lightsaber moved almost of its own accord, and as he came closer to the pack of training droids, the bolts he was redirecting began to come closer to their position.
The droids' tactical computers assessed his proximity, and suddenly the group broke, a dozen remotes whirring through the haze of their own blasterfire, fanning out and taking up positions surrounding the Barabel. He began to whirl wildly, ducking and juking as he found himself under assault from all directions. This was not ideal. A Jedi of his caliber was more than capable of taking on a cluster of enemies, but with shots coming from everywhere, even Tesok's blade was not fast enough.
That sliver of doubt was all it took. He felt a sting as one bolt made it past his guard to slap into his thigh. He tried to regain focus, to re-enter his combat trance. His hide was more than capable of withstanding a stun bolt. Then there was another sting, and another, and he was on one knee, desperately swinging his blade through the air, trying to eliminate one of the droids and give himself a corner to retreat to.
He found no such luck. Stings became burns, and several moments later, he was panting on the ground. One of the training room's automated medical droids hovered gently over him, inquiring as to whether he would need to be transported to the infirmary. Tesok waved it off with an exasperated hiss and proceeding to the training computer to re-engage the sequence he had been executing.
The computer chimed, two low notes indicating a negative result. Glancing at the screen, he hissed again, this time with more force. "KNIGHT BARANAR has exceeded the maximum number of attempts for this sequence for today. Please return after 12 hours, or logging 90 standard minutes in a meditation room. Remember: there is no emotion, there is peace."
This was nonsense. Tesok did not wish to take a break. Tesok wanted to complete his training regimen while he still had the time; it was rare that he had a day in the Temple without needing to watch after Jifo, but he had sent the boy to assist Archivist Nero with some translations that she was struggling on. Unimpressed by the computer's continued resistance to his attempts to activate the training sequence, he rather forcefully powered it down and proceeded to the sparring rooms. The Temple might be able to keep him from training with droids, but perhaps he could adjust his routine and find a good partner for a few bouts.
His mind was clear, and he was in that deep place where fear, uncertainty, and frustration had no hold on him. He was empty; the perfect conduit for the Force to flow through and affect its will. His lightsaber moved almost of its own accord, and as he came closer to the pack of training droids, the bolts he was redirecting began to come closer to their position.
The droids' tactical computers assessed his proximity, and suddenly the group broke, a dozen remotes whirring through the haze of their own blasterfire, fanning out and taking up positions surrounding the Barabel. He began to whirl wildly, ducking and juking as he found himself under assault from all directions. This was not ideal. A Jedi of his caliber was more than capable of taking on a cluster of enemies, but with shots coming from everywhere, even Tesok's blade was not fast enough.
That sliver of doubt was all it took. He felt a sting as one bolt made it past his guard to slap into his thigh. He tried to regain focus, to re-enter his combat trance. His hide was more than capable of withstanding a stun bolt. Then there was another sting, and another, and he was on one knee, desperately swinging his blade through the air, trying to eliminate one of the droids and give himself a corner to retreat to.
He found no such luck. Stings became burns, and several moments later, he was panting on the ground. One of the training room's automated medical droids hovered gently over him, inquiring as to whether he would need to be transported to the infirmary. Tesok waved it off with an exasperated hiss and proceeding to the training computer to re-engage the sequence he had been executing.
The computer chimed, two low notes indicating a negative result. Glancing at the screen, he hissed again, this time with more force. "KNIGHT BARANAR has exceeded the maximum number of attempts for this sequence for today. Please return after 12 hours, or logging 90 standard minutes in a meditation room. Remember: there is no emotion, there is peace."
This was nonsense. Tesok did not wish to take a break. Tesok wanted to complete his training regimen while he still had the time; it was rare that he had a day in the Temple without needing to watch after Jifo, but he had sent the boy to assist Archivist Nero with some translations that she was struggling on. Unimpressed by the computer's continued resistance to his attempts to activate the training sequence, he rather forcefully powered it down and proceeded to the sparring rooms. The Temple might be able to keep him from training with droids, but perhaps he could adjust his routine and find a good partner for a few bouts.
