(Apologies for the delay this week. I had an idea in my head over this past weekend, which quickly became untenable for Monday. So I scrapped the entire thing and began again. Only for the chapter to not at all go where I thought it might. resulting in a single chapter that is larger than the previous two combined - seriously, 7,600 to about 6,950 for 33 & 34. Hope you enjoy the chapter!)
"Niman more closely resembles Form III or Form V than the more aggressive forms. Its approach is carefully balanced but tends to favor defense. This reflects its origins and explains its popularity among Jedi whose primary interests lie outside the martial pursuits. However, Niman is as distinctive as any other lightsaber form, and any Jedi or anyone thoroughly educated in the traditions of the Jedi, should recognize it immediately."
"Master Ivanova Stella, member of Moscow Council of Elders and the European High Council is generally regarded as a top practitioner of Form VI, Niman. This is due in large part to an indomitable will, for which the practice of Niman is regarded as key to. From the Jedi Council's tests on Lightsaber Forms:
"For a Niman practitioner, the strength of will is at least as important as physical agility and power. A fighter using Form VI must possess not only sufficient mastery of the Force to maneuver an opponent about the battlefield, but also the mental discipline to resist relying overly on physical strikes. With its extensive integration of Force powers, Niman is the least physical of the lightsaber forms, and in fact is quite unique among all martial arts traditions in the Jedi Order's history.
So that's how I'll beat her.
I'll out-physical her. In addition to dictating the terms of the battle and not allow her to maneuver me around whichever of the various arenas they put us in.
That's one of the fun parts about this competition.
Over the years, the Order has gone to great details to learn from its experiences. They undergo detailed interviews with each Jedi, post combat, and pull every last detail out. About the fight, the terrain, the dialogue, everything.
It all matters.
They've turned the information about the locations of their various battles into a holographic replica, complete with obstacles and impediments.
Pillars made of a dense foam that you bounce off of. Floors meant to cushion, but not break your fall. Platforms that can rise and fall.
They're used commonly in sparring sessions. But when you spar, you choose your 'map', as most call it.
Here and now? You don't get to choose your map.
Blinking once, I come back to myself and begin keenly feeling the eyes that are all around me. In an effort to distract myself, I lock my tablet and stow it away in my backpack.
Locker, then meditate.
I rise to my feet, causing multiple silent eyes to follow me as I zip up my backpack, then walk a few feet to the locker that was assigned to me, and stow it away.
My traditional Jedi robes, with the vest black and the body and sleeves a dark brown flutter in my peripheral vision as I return to my seat on the bench, with a wide berth on either side.
Fine by me.
The voice of the PA announcer for the tournament floats thru the tunnel, coming from any of the four passages stemming from it.
Four on this side, four on the other side. For the four arenas that the duels occur in simultaneously.
Discipline.
I smile to myself, then close my eyes and let myself slip into my head.
Relax…the only way I win this is by allowing myself to relax.
Tension is the enemy of fluidity. And fluidity is my greatest asset as a practitioner of Makashi.
I need to decide what my plan of attack will be here. And I must approach this openly and honestly.
Which means confronting the fact that this fight will be a complete and total waste of my time.
The matter at hand is whether I am going to drag out the fight and give the appearance that I'm not nearly as skilled as I'm described to be. Or if I will dispatch of the poor Padawan in front of me in short order.
It depends on what the rules are.
If we're playing Three-Touch, Marks or a real duel.
Three-Touch involves sensors, placed in our robes and give off a signal to a board. It's simple really, first to strike their opponent three times, usually signified to the crowd by a scoreboard with simple lights on it, wins.
Marks, as it's regularly called, is all about the Marks of Contact. The Marks are describing the objectives, maneuvers to use, and the various outcomes that can arise out of a fight involving lightsabers. They help focus a Jedi's attacks and defenses on a few clearer categories. Disarming, or Sun Djem, a light cut or slice, known as a Shiim, a stab, Cho, or the amputation of a limb, and lastly the Shiak, the act of stabbing your opponent.
Normally three to five Marks of Contact have to be met before the duel ends.
And when the fight is determined to be a duel, its business it always should be.
Winner wins. Loser loses. You fight until somebody falls.
All lightsabers are programmed to operate on their training modes in the arena, so nobody truly gets hurt. But the sting is amplified to a realistic effect, and things proceed as they do in a real fight.
Expectations are the enemy here. Whatever is decided to be the rules, and whatever the arena is, so be it.
I'll win regardless.
Go.
The Force gives me a gentle nudge before I rise to my feet, eyes still closed and allow the Force to guide my footsteps out of the locker room towards the tunnel before I take a slight right.
Alright.
I release my tensions out into the Force, only for them to be devoured by a massive amount of life just outside of the tunnel.
It must be an open secret which arena is going to be mine. They feel…
Vengeful. Angry. Vindictive.
Fine then. That answers my question. And a plan of attack.
The plan: Attack.
I barely catch the sound of a microphone switching back on before—
"THREE of our competitors have advanced onto their next opponent. While three other have moved on to the elimination rounds…" A powerful male voice booms out to the assembled crowd, which roars. "And now to our fourth, highly anticipated bout…"
"Hailing from the plains of Texas, but now calls this city home—"
Let's go.
I begin walking towards the light of the arena before an onslaught of deafening boos sounds out on all sides. My own name barely reaches my own ears as I become visible to the crowd, and I'm bombarded by jeers and booing.
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
I smile to myself and peer around at the arena, a simple, red clay construction leaving little in the way of obstacles and defenses. Only three pillars, one of which looks cracked while another is downed completely stand between me and my to be announced opponent.
They're sending the poor Padawan into a lion's den.
"AND NOW…his opponent! Also from your home city of Los Angeles—"
OH!
The Padawan in question, whom I will be facing rushes out to a chorus of enthusiastic and hearty cheers before motioning widely to the crowd.
Braluc. Of course it's Braluc.
Gesticulate all you want. You're wasting your energy and lacking any and all focus.
You really should have a problem with the matchup.
You're dead buddy.
"This match will be refereed by Master Derden Turco, and will be a match of Three-Touch!" The PA reveals, only for the crowd to boo vociferously.
They want more. Well, already knew that.
The PA goes on before I start to pace around and glance at the crowd.
The High Council is seated mostly together. Masters Windu, Yoda, Dooku, Skywalker and Yaddle are all off to the left in a little box, near where the boundary of the arena meets the seats.
"ARE WE READY?!"
Yes.
I pivot lazily on my heel while letting out a breath and turn to Master Turco, who is standing on a platform to my right. Master Turco however, is looking to Braluc before receiving confirmation that he's ready. When Turco turns to find me, I give him a simple nod.
It's time.
"THREE—"
"TWO—"
I let out a final breath to calm myself, and—
"ONE—"
Go.
"FIGHT!" The PA booms out before the crowd all around us crescendos into an unintelligible mass of screams and cheers.
Braluc immediately begins sprinting towards me, igniting his lightsaber within one or two steps before I simply move my right hand to pull my lightsaber off my belt and into my hand.
He's going right.
Left!
As Braluc closes on me, I pivot as he slashes at me and I finally pull my lightsaber into my hand. Braluc rushes past me blindly as I ignite my lightsaber in my left hand and tuck my right behind my back.
Putting Braluc firmly in my crosshairs, I point the tip of my blade in his direction, which is enough for him to take a deep breath and charge me again.
Heaving chest and all, Braluc bum rushes me before letting go a strong chop aimed at my neck. I respond by snapping my wrist and dismiss the attempt easily.
Too hyped up. He's going to wear himself out fast.
Even if I didn't want to end this quickly.
Braluc responds with another sequence of strong steps towards me and releases another strong chop which I duck under, then purposefully slice behind him.
That's all you're getting.
"You missed!" Braluc yells at me.
"I didn't try to hit you?" I respond with a look of confusion which succeeds in baiting him once again, into another blind charge.
I knock away his chop then slice at his off arm, connecting around the middle of his bicep. My success results in a sound effect playing out, followed by a green light going up on one side of the scoreboard.
Guess that's my side.
"Ahh!" Braluc roars, then swipes out at me aimlessly. This time I parry the blow and pivot on my heels before I follow with a deliberate slice on his left side.
Braluc bats my slice away, then closes the gap between us and raises his knee—
Nope!
I flash my right hand out from behind my back, negate his attempt to knee me in the chest and spin behind him, finishing the exchange with a cut to his shoulder.
That's two.
The sound effect rings out again, getting an audible reaction from the crowd as Braluc collects himself off the arena floor, shock and frustration written clear across his face.
Calmly, I tuck my right arm behind my back once again before Braluc's voice rises above the crowd.
"COME GET ME!"
Okay.
I pretend not to hear him for an instant, then take off at a dead sprint towards Braluc. Braluc panics and hurriedly takes a few steps back, raising his lightsaber to block the expected blow.
However, just as I reach him, I duck under both his arm and lightsaber and strike the decisive blow to his back then snap out a push that sends him bouncing and skidding across the arena floor before he comes to a halt.
Three.
The sound effect sounds out for a final time, and I allow myself to raise my lightsaber above my head and twirl it three times before deactivating it.
"The winner is…Ezra Bridger!"
The arena fills with boos again, which I allow myself to smile at before I turn to my right where a ramp is descending for me to walk up towards the Council.
I get to enjoy the Temple proper until my next fight. Braluc has to linger down in the tunnels and the darkness until his elimination match.
"YES!" I hear Cayle's voice yell triumphantly. "YES! Hell yeah Ezra!
Smiling again at Cayle's voice, I turn and find him as I walk up the ramp before he greets me at the base of the footsteps.
"Well that was decisive!"
I laugh before meeting Cayle's extended hand with an affectionate slap, the same one I've seen Matt and Trey celebrate with many a time.
"C'mon!" He pulls me in before wrapping his arm around my shoulder. "That deserves a drink. That was incredible. Wow! What a statement!"
"I don't know about that." I reply as we start up the stairs towards the Temple's corridors.
"They wanted your head! They didn't want Three-Touch! They booed and harassed you, and you dispatched of Braluc like a plaything!"
Because he was a plaything.
"I'm not in Humble Mode." I remind him, which only causes his smile to widen.
"Good! You've seen this show! You know that it'll get you nowhere in this thing!" Cayle says excitedly before being overcome by his excitement which results in him pulling me into another side-hug.
"Hell yeah Dude!"
I smile, then lean into Cayle and his excitement. "Shouldn't you be preparing for your own duel?"
"It's not for another forty-five minutes. And we're still in the preliminaries. This is cake-walk time."
For most higher-level Padawans such as himself. Not for me.
I'm in the Group of Death.
Nobody expects me to get out of it because it was designed to not let me out of it.
"By the way." Cayle seems to come back to his normal self. "Master Kenobi moved your lunch. Your third and fourth duels will go down, then lunch. Then there will be a bunch of elimination matches. Then your final duel of the day with Master Stella."
The real match of the day.
"Why'd he move lunch?" I ask him.
I'll have to grab something to tide me over until then.
Cayle only shrugs before laughing again and pulling me further towards the kitchens.
"Thank you, for you kind words, Grand Master Márquez." I bow in deference. "If you'll excuse me, I must be off. Master Kenobi and Master Dooku have invited me off to lunch."
"Of course, young Padawan." Master Márquez replies. "Give them my best."
"I will."
On that note, I smile and start up the steps towards the main corridors of the Temple.
Finally. I'm starving.
"The trail mix I nabbed from the kitchens wasn't nearly enough to really tide me over. But I made it.
Last two duels haven't been much of a contest. All Three-Touch. All ended pretty quickly, and without contact on me.
Turning off the main corridor towards the parking garage, I slip my hand into my pocket and pull out my phone.
Little dangerous, keeping this on me for the last duel. But I knew I had to keep it close somehow, and the last place I want to go is back down to the tunnels. Frustration and losing mixes poorly. Wouldn't shock me if some overmatched Padawan decided to give me a shove or something.
Emotion springs up from competition. Anger is an easy emotion to capture, especially after a loss.
Tapping in my passcode, I drift towards the security gate before I punch Master Kenobi's contact.
I've got a change of clothes hung up in my car, so I'll be able to appear incognito—
"Hello?" Master Kenobi's voice answers.
"Yes Master, it's Ezra."
"Ahh yes. There you are." He replies, smirk evident even thru audio. "I presume that your latest duel was a victorious one?"
"Yes Master." I reply, while nodding in the direction of the Temple Guards. "Now where is this lunch at?"
"Oh, I'll—"
The Temple Guard nearest me stops me with an open palm and moves to step in front of me.
Huh?
Immediately I lower my phone and turn to look at the Guard. "Is there an issue?"
"You're not permitted to leave the premises until all of your matches today are complete. Only permitted requests may pass thru."
I'm permitted. Master Kenobi invited me.
"Do you copy?" I hear Master Kenobi say, before I quickly turn back to my phone.
"One moment Master, I'm terribly sorry." I quickly apologize.
Turning back to the Guard, I be sure to smile before asking. "Master Kenobi asked me to go to this lunch. Is that not enough permission?"
"It's not on the list." Another Guard states bluntly.
"Master Kenobi's not on the list?"
"No." The first Guard replies. "he is on the list, along with Master Dooku and your friend, the Jedi Knight Cayle. You aren't."
"If you leave the premises before all of your matches are complete, without permission, you will be disqualified."
DISQUALIFIED?!
Banking my anger, I turn slightly away from the Guards and back to my phone. "Master?"
"Yes?"
"I'm terribly sorry. I'm at the entrance for the security gate. They're saying that I'm not allowed to leave?" I relay the news.
"Not allowed to leave? I put you down." Kenobi responds. "Put them on."
Spinning back, I extend my phone to the Guard. "For you."
"I don't take calls."
"Master Kenobi asked me to put you on. He says that I'm on the list."
"You're not." The second guard states, even stronger. "You questioning my authority?"
Deliberately, I lower my phone and place my hands together. "No, I am not."
"Good."
Oh? Two can play that game.
"Master Kenobi still wants an answer though." I pop right back, then extend my phone again.
The two Temple Guards stare at my phone for a moment, before it's snatched out of my hands.
"ghhhzzzhzhzhhzz…"
Restlessly, I dole out another handful of dry roasted peanuts to myself and set the can aside.
Stupid rules.
I swipe to the left on my display, sending today's Daily Briefing down the document before throwing the peanuts into my mouth.
T-Minus: 22:42—41—40 on my final fight of the day.
I'm so bailing the moment I get out and getting a pizza. I think I could eat the whole thing in ten minutes.
Distract yourself Ezra.
"As I'm sure all are aware, today is the opening day of the 1241st Jedi Dueling Tournament. Dating back to 771 AD with breaks only during World Wars One and Two, as well as a cancellation in 2001, the tournament—"
Obstinately, my stomach rumbles loudly again, pulling me out of my reading.
Okay. Maybe one or two more handfuls. I can't fight like I'm going to need to fight if I'm stuffing myself just before.
Grabbing the can again, I continue reading while letting my thoughts wander.
The majority of the Padawans must have figured out that I've sequestered myself in here by now. They must be avoiding me. Giving me my space. I would imagine Master Stella is doing the same thing.
Probably up in one of the Temple's spires. Meditating.
I've already meditated. Already done all the intelligence and scouting that I can. I'll be fine.
A knock at the door pulls me away again, and I turn back in time to see a dark figure at the door before they come—
What in the hell?
Alrich Wren smiles warmly at me while closing the door behind him. "Hmm. They were correct. You are in here by yourself."
What are you doing here?!
"Who is they?" I laugh, disguising my question.
"Your friend, Cayle. Along with Master Dooku. How are you son? I'm sorry you couldn't make lunch." Sabine's father replies, while extending his hand out to me.
"You were at lunch?" I ask while shaking his hand.
Like…today?!
"I was." He nods before moving to sit beside me. "Myself, the Jedi Masters Kenobi, Dooku and your Master, Jarrus. His wife, who is delightful—" He smiles in my direction. "And your friend Cayle. Along with myself, I was accompanied by Duchess Satine."
"Of Mandalore?" I blurt out, turning to fully face him.
No!
"I see you keep up with your world affairs."
NO NO NO!
I can't hide a wince before informing him "I'm so sorry I missed out on lunch then. They told me that I wasn't allowed to leave. I needed to be permitted to leave, and—"
Alrich Wren puts up his hand to halt my hurried words. "I know the situation. Master Kenobi was very dissatisfied you couldn't' join us. You are, after all, the reason we got together for lunch."
"Oh really?"
This can't be good.
"Yes." He nods, while moving to lean against the table I've been sitting on. "The Duchess wished to meet you, speak with you and get a feel for you as well as the situation."
"I'm very sorry I couldn't make it." I apologize again.
"If you weren't permitted to leave, then you couldn't leave. That's hardly your fault. And besides, it's gotten me in here." He laughs. "So this is how the Jedi conduct their dueling tournament?"
I nod once. "Yeah. One central location for everybody to gather. Duels every day for a month until a winner is decided."
"I've only heard stories thru the media really." Mr. Wren muses. "They make it sound so…antiquated."
It's not antiquated.
"It's important. Combat experience is, at least. That's why they do it."
"Quite important. I'm not much of a fighter personally, but my wife is." He says, moving to copy me and sit on the table. "She is the Countess, and Leader of our House, House Wren. I married into the name."
"Is that common?"
Usually it's the other way around.
"For a husband to take his wife's name? No. But their name was more reputable than mine. And they knew what I wanted to do with my life, and they liked me well enough, so they allowed it."
"Hmm." Is all I can come up with, before smiling at him.
"You're nervous again." He states the obvious. "Sorry Sabine isn't here. If she asks, I snuck in after negotiating insulin prices."
"Insulin prices?"
Mr. Wren nods. "Flew in late last night. Negotiated until around two, went to lunch. Lunch didn't go as planned, but netted me an invite here. And here I am."
So this wasn't planned.
"Are you enjoying your Christmas holiday? The Jedi said that you're staying with your Master and their children."
"I am. And I am enjoying my holiday, thank you. Are you?" I reply.
He nods. "It's nice to get the whole Clan and family together. Now that everyone is out of the house, we all can enjoy the time together."
Instead of life together where life gets in the way.
"They showed me some pictures, with you and the children. They certainly seem to love you."
Unconsciously, I laugh. "Yeah, they're great. Good kids."
"What are their names? Sabine mentioned them, but it's not coming to me at the moment."
"Jacen and Mira." I respond. "Mira's the baby and Jacen is three."
Sabine's father nods, then takes in the surroundings for a moment before I glance at the clock.
10:46—45—44—
"And I'm sorry we missed you at the airport. I had my eye out for you, but both you and Sabine snuck past us."
Wait, she snuck past you too?
Before I can respond, he speaks again. "Well, let me correct myself. We caught her coming out of the bathroom. She seemed upset about something, but never really said what."
Oh boy.
"I asked if it was you, or something you did. But she said no." Mr. Wren finishes, then folds his hands into his lap.
"I…" I start, then hesitate. "I disagree with that. But then again, I don't know. I'm confused."
"I am as well. I asked the Jedi what happened, and they wouldn't give me much. Classified information and all that business." He says, then pauses again.
"For what it's worth to you, she's been very complimentary towards you around the kitchen table. She likes cooking, helping out wherever she can. Always has, it's in her nature." Sabine's father smiles. "If I didn't know you were around that plane, I wouldn't know something was amiss at all."
That's…even weirder.
I shrug helplessly, then grab my bottle of water. "I don't know. I…gave her a Christmas present. She didn't like it, and ran off. Hasn't talked to me since."
"Really?" Mr. Wren blurts out. When I nod once, his expression changes to one I cannot read.
Don't probe Ezra.
Not my business.
"how do I explain this…because I can't say it exactly. It's her story, and if she wants to tell it, then she will."
I quickly cut him off. "I know. My friend, the one you met, he keeps trying to tell me something about…whatever it is that you're thinking about.'
"And you haven't followed up?" he turns back to me.
"Nope. Not my business. She'll tell me if she wants to."
Mr. Wren eyes me for a moment. "Well then, I'll only add this: All of her actions this semester stem from that. Her behavior earlier on in the semester, to how she treated you at that party, to how attached she is to you now. It all fits."
All right.
"I won't press than." I smile at him.
Thankfully, he only smiles then turns back to the clock. "What's this all for?"
"Oh, I have my final duel of the day here in a few minutes."
"In five minutes and change? That'll be a treat, they said at lunch that you've put on quite a display today."
"Eh." I shrug modestly. "Just advanced is all."
"Not what I've heard. You displayed a mastery of a variety of styles, despite being set up for failure. Your friend Cayle's words, not mine." He smiles.
I have used a variety of styles. I know they're watching me closely, so I've used every style in some form or fashion today.
And it's gotten a lot of attention, like my conversation with Grand Master Márquez after my last fight.
"Do you have urgent plans afterward?" He asks me.
"I was going to get some real food." I laugh.
Thankfully, Mr. Wren laughs as well. "I don't blame you. I know that the Jedi were planning on keeping you so that we could have our discussion with myself and the Duchess Satine and answer any and all questions she may have."
Or any that he has as well.
"Do you have any questions sir?" I turn and ask before moving to drain my water bottle.
Three minutes.
"None that can be answered easily. Like how a boy with your upbringing can turn out so…different than those around him."
"That is a hard one." I shrug, then move to throw my water bottle away.
I've thought about that a little myself.
"Which is why I won't ask. Is it time?"
I nod. "I can lead you out. But I'll warn you: They don't like me."
"Master Dooku invited me to sit with them for the duel. I would imagine you know where that would be."
"I do. I'll show you to your seat."
"Thank you son. I greatly appreciate it." He smiles at me before I move to the door.
"No problem at all."
I pull open the door and hold it open for him, which allows the din of the nearby arena to filter to my ears. Sabine's father steps just past the door then allows me to take the lead and start off.
"Boooooo…"
"BOOO!"
"BOOOOO!"
The boos multiply once more of them see that it is indeed me filing thru the halls. Before long, it is almost as loud as the crowd for the duel.
Must be a good one. I know it was Master Tiplar's Padawan against somebody I don't know.
The crowd continues to part for me as I make my way thru to the area where the seat are. Finally , I'm stopped by a Knight who is acting as an usher who halts me for a moment as an elderly Master is making his way up. Out of habit, I pull Sabine's father aside then bow respectfully to the ancient Master as he passes by.
Oh.
The old Master gives me a warm smile, then continues on after bowing in return before disappearing into the crowd.
That's…odd. The older members of the Order really do not approve of me.
I can't say I blame them either. They know more than anyone. And it's not like the Council's decision wasn't unpopular.
Overruling hundreds of years of treating Sith combatants as criminals instead of prisoners. To be treated with kindness and empathy instead of outright disdain and antipathy.
This time as I make my way down towards the box where the Council is seated, the boos morph into whistles of discontent. However, those get Windu's attention right away, who pops to his feet and looks around until he spots us before saying something to a woman with her hair curled immaculately.
Hardly the place for a ballroom type hairstyle. But okay.
"Here you are sir." I say to Sabine's father and gesture for him to go ahead.
He gives me a massive smile and moves to shake my hand again. "Thank you! Good luck!"
"Thank you!" I nod, then allow him to begin making his way to his seat.
Alright…let's go.
I turn back to the stairs and the scoreboard, showing 2-2 just before the crowd gasps dramatically before the sound of lightsabers colliding reaches my ears.
Taking the final few steps, I perch myself on the railing and start watching the action unfold.
They're really pushing each other. This is an even match.
The crowd lets out a collective gasp once again before the two combatants turn away from the brink of decision and reset.
They're ready for my fight. If they're anything like me and have been wanting this one to hurry up all day—
The sound effect rings out, meaning that one of them has won and the other has lost. Glancing up, I hear the crowd cheer enthusiastically for the both of them before Master Tiplar's apprentice begins making his way up.
I give him the customary nod of respect before I move to sit on the wall of the arena.
And now I wait…
Just breathe.
Breathe and think.
"Ladies and Gentlemen…The time… has come!" The PA roars to life once again, followed by a roar from the crowd.
Filled to capacity again. Have been for all of my duels.
It's weird, how I'm simultaneously hated yet also an object of fascination.
"For his fifth and final duel of the day, from Los—"
Vehement and undeniable boos ring out from all sides of the arena, blotting out my name before the PA pauses to build up the moment.
She's not here yet. At least as far as I can see.
"And the challenger!" The PA exclaims. "From Moscow, Russia, HAILING from both the Council in Moscow and the European High Council! For her first, and only duel of the day, I introduce…MASTER IVAAAAA—"
The PA's hype attempts get blocked out by the crowd cheering as I halt my pacing out to my position, turn around and see Master Stella, dressed in dark red robes, with intricate patterns woven or stitched onto the fabric.
"This match will be refereed by…Jedi GRAND MASTER Mace! Windu!"
WHOA!
Snapping my head to the left, I see Master Windu as he steps out of the Council's designated box and into position. "This match will be…A DUEL!"
Oh boy.
"ARE WE READY?!" The PA booms out.
Windu gives the PA an annoyed look, before he turns to me and says something I can't catch over the din of the crowd.
Are we good?
I nod once, and Windu doesn't let off a visible reply before turning to Master Stella.
Breathe. Relax. Think.
"THREE—"
Dictate terms. Be physical. Know her moves before she pulls them off.
"TWO—"
She'll want to lean on the Force, rather than her martial strength.
"ONE—"
And win.
"FIGHT!" The PA booms out before the crowd all around us roars bleed into each other, a mass of screams and cheers.
Respectfully, I activate my lightsaber and give it a flourish with a few turns of the wrist before raising it up in a textbook Makashi salute and hold it for a moment.
Across from me, Master Stella copies my move but goes straight for the salute back. We both hold it for a beat, then lower our lightsabers and—
MOVE!
I leap to the side, sensing a deceptive push from Master Stella and land to my left. Within a beat, Stella is striking towards me with a slash around chest height.
Blocking the move, I slip out of the blade lock and feint with my head before my peripheral vision changes, causing me to glance around just as the crowd roars.
They're activating the dynamic nature of the arena.
Behind me I see that there is a catwalk, leading to some sort of a structure or a building.
Fine.
I return my focus to Stella and switch into the traditional Sorensu guard with my hand above my head, lightsaber blade pointed at her.
C'mon. You want this to be a martial fight. You want to get into a 1v1, you're a Master and on the European Council.
You're better than me. You know this.
Master Stella takes the bait and advances on my position. I bat away her first cut before altering my approach and falling back into Makashi, tucking my hand behind my back and meeting her blow for blow.
Up, down, slice, cut.
Nope!
I meet another slice with a riposte of my own, which fails to meet its mark but results in Master Stella's feet feinting a retreat.
Happy feet!
Sensing my advantage, I close the gap between us and let loose a quick three slice combo, first right then left then right again before pushing her blade off mine. Master Stella takes an unsteady step, allowing me to glance back and take in my surroundings.
Tunnel, leading into a large room. Okay.
I fall back as Master Stella lets out a visible breath thru her nose then—
Blocking the bull rush and accompanying slice, I redirect her around me and reset the exchange. Stella doesn't seem to bother and swings at me. I block the move and she snaps her wrists to turn the exchange into a volley around our knees and ankles.
I bat away one, then a second, then a third before finally she takes her hand off her lightsaber in an effort to—
Nope!
At the same time as she lets loose a push, I return the gesture. The two collide between us, resulting in neither of us moving an inch and our lightsabers still locking near our waists.
Rotating my wrists, I take a step and chop down at her which gets redirected and allows her to cut out at me. I dip underneath the cut and spin on my heels to get some power behind—
OWW!
I fall back, jaw throbbing as Stella lands after nailing my right in the jaw with the kick. She sees her advantage and takes advantage by spinning me around and pushing me further into this tunnel.
Fine!
Our lightsabers collides a step or two further into the tunnel before we start connecting with the material that consists of the tunnel. Sparks immediately start flying, but they don't distract either of us as she pushes her advantage and I move my lightsaber to beat back her offensive.
After two or three more steps I sense the tunnel open back up and retreat, then look around to see a mostly empty room with what appears to be a few conference tables set up horizontally across the room.
Stella chops powerfully down at me, only for me to sidestep the move and for her lightsaber to connect with the structure, resulting in more sparks flying out and a bleating alarm begins to go off.
Awesome!
I turn back to Stella just as she is mid motion to turn around and—
AHH!
This time I let out a cry of pain as again she kicks me in the face. Undeterred by the sound of my distress, she advances on me before I lower my lightsaber and force her back with a powerful Force Push. However, she counters this by igniting her lightsaber into the floor to slow dramatically, then halt her progress.
"Are blows allowed in this fight!?" I yell to Windu, who is ten to twelve feet away while calmly looking on.
"Of course they are. It's a duel." He responds before I feel something grab me and—
NO!
I'm aggressively pulled across the room by Stella as the move is combing with a powerful downward chop, resulting in her driving me both down and back and almost completely removing my height advantage.
She pushes and pushes on my blade before I slip out of it and take a huge swing of my lightsaber at her shoulder area, only for her to vanish from sight.
She moved around—ME!
Taking an educated guess, I throw my left arm behind me just as she makes her move, allowing our arms to bang into each other and for her lightsaber to come out of her hand and fall to the ground. In addition, her momentum basically feeds her throat into my hand.
Instantly, Stella lets out a dramatic gasp for oxygen as I have her completely at my mercy before I start to bend her slowly but surely backwards.
More…More…
Stella desperately tries calling her lightsaber to me, but I don't look away from her as I continue bending her spine backwards. Her lightsaber flies by the both of us, out of sight.
That's it! Just a little…
I activate my lightsaber with a flourish and feel a rush of gratification before I dr—
Out of nowhere, my feet vanish from beneath me and I drop her while falling right onto my back.
What in the—OWW!
My head snaps back viciously after Stella kicks me full on in the face in an attempt to get away from me. By the time I've recovered, I look to my hand and see that my own lightsaber is gone while Master Stella has risen to her feet with lightsaber in hand.
Great!
I only get a smirk before she rushes at me and raises her lightsaber, sensing that now is the time for a decisive blow. Whenever she gets within arm's reach of me, I counter by powerfully clearing the area with a forearm shiver to her ribcage area, sending Master Stella flying away from me, landing in a heap and rolling multiple times.
Where's my lightsaber?
I quickly scan the area directly surrounding me before I spot it and call it to my hand. The reassuring curve of the hilt falls right into my grip as Stella rises to her feet again.
You want to turn this into a dirty fight! Then fine!
I'll beat your ass up all damn day. I've got eight inches and probably over one hundred pounds on you, Master.
And I damn well guarantee that I'm infinitely stronger than she is. I could throw her around like Jacen or Mira if I wanted to.
Instead of pressing my advantage I relent and take a couple of leisurely steps towards the center of the room, which over the course of our battle is certainly looking worse for the wear with one of the tables folded in on itself and—
MOVE!
Impulsively, I flip directly behind me just as part of one of the tables gets whipped out at me. When I land, I see Master Stella grab the other half of the table and move to whip it at me.
Right away, I counteract the move by leaping over the next piece of table. But before I land, a Force Push connects with me and sends me flying thru the air before I fall heavily and roll to a stop.
GO!
I hear Stella yell just before I turn and see her in mid-air, blade pointed completely downward and in position to be driven right thru me. Thoughtlessly, I roll away and the blade sinks into the floor up to the hilt before I torque my body using my hands and release a flying kick which connects and knocks her backwards.
Okay!
I rise to my feet once again and look around to get a feel for my surroundings.
Let's see what's thru this door behind me.
Again, I don't press my advantage and simply rotate my lightsaber in my hand before moving to a two-handed grip more commonly associated with Shii-Cho, or Form I.
Master Stella seems to anticipate me taking an offensive approach, only for me to feel around with the Force for the handle to this door then snap my wrists on the lever, forcing it to open.
C'mon…Let's go outside.
It takes two or three steps before I can coax Stella out of the ruined conference room and out onto what feels like a skyway before she advances close enough for me to slice at her left side then alter my attack to the right, only for her to block it.
Master Stella then slips my blade off hers and swings high, almost head height before I revert back to Makashi and block her one handed. My blue blade and her green blade clash for a moment before I push her off me and move to fall back—
WHOOOOAAAAAHHH!
Out of nowhere the skyway we're standing on fails in some way, sending both Stella and I careening to the right before we collide with the wall faces first. A horrible and metallic screeching sounds out before I hear the crowd collectively gasp as I move to grab onto a railing and pull myself into some sort of better positioning.
What in the hell is going on?
I strain to pull myself into a better, more vertical position just before the Force—
MOVE!
Without hesitation, I throw my lightsaber blade down at my ankles only for my blade to connect with Stella's as she is dangling below me, also clinging to a railing. Our blades strike each other's for a moment before she is forced to pull back and focus on simply hanging on.
There's got to be—THERE!
Looks like a landing pad or something. It'll have to do!
I gather my strength, then crouch as best I can, push off the wall and reach out for the railing to the circular structure that is about ten or so feet above me.
"AAAHHH!" I yell out as I barely reach the railing, only for the resulting effort to nearly pull my arm out of its socket.
UP! UP! UP!
GET UP!
Nevertheless, I grit my teeth and rely on my core strength to pull myself up, then roll over onto the structure before getting back on my feet wearily.
Now where is she?
Tentatively, I take a couple of steps forward in case the platform gives way and peer down, where the floor has dropped precipitously around twenty to thirty feet. About halfway up, the structure that used to be the skyway dangles, having failed and is dangling from the main building itself with the bottom hanging open down to the bottom.
Master Stella meanwhile, has inventively yanked loose the ceiling tiles and is pulling herself up towards the main structure with what looks like a collection of wiring.
Nope.
Without a second thought, I throw my lightsaber out in an arc towards the wiring. The blade cuts right thru just before the air is filled with a shriek by Master Stella—
The sound effect signaling that the duel is over sounds out, and I jump right out of my skin and whirl around.
What's happening?!
"And the WINNER! Ezra! Bridger!" The PA declares just as the crowd, most of whom are already on their feet rise fully and start…applauding and cheering.
I…won?
That was a hell of a lot harder than I thought it would be.
I turn away from Windu and the cheering crowd, back to Master Stella who is on her back at the bottom of the shaft.
I need to go get her.
Right away, I leap off the platform and let myself fall before cushioning my fall just as Master Stella rolls over and turns in my direction.
"You alright?"
Master Stella closes her eyes, her face a picture of frustration before her eyes snap open. "They owe me a deep tissue massage. For that platform trickery."
I can't hold back a laugh before extending my hand to help her up. Stella takes my hand and I pull her to my feet, followed by the floor beginning to rise back up.
I…I guess that's it.
I can relax.
Dropping into a crouch, I rest my hands on my knees and start to catch my breath as the floor rises to meet the rest of the arena.
That wasn't so much a fight about styles or Force powers or work with a lightsaber.
That was tactics and quick thinking.
And I'm exhausted.
The floor heavily clicks into place once it reaches the rest of the arena, allowing the cheering of the crowd, which was dulled by the chamber, to be fully heard while ringing all around.
Huh.
I think they're applauding the both of us.