o:o:o
It felt good to sleep. Despite the uncomfortable appearance of her bed, there was only so long a being could sleep in a crash couch. Nonetheless, she was stiff and sore as she stumbled her way into her refresher the next morning.
A cup of military-grade caf later, she managed to get dressed and make her way down to the training courts. They were all but empty at that early hour, but she claimed a small corner at the back for her own.
Beginning slowly, she breathed deep and felt herself relative to all other things in the Force. However much they all laughed at Master Skywalker's rock-lifting, she had to admit that it probably was a good idea seeing as she used it quite often to get herself concentrating. Willing away the nagging stiffness in her shoulders, she flicked a switch on the wall using the Force, and a door panel opened.
The Dualist Elite droid came at her, swinging it's powered-down, yellow-bladed lightsaber. It was on lower training settings for the younger apprentices, but she didn't bother to adjust it. The slower motions allowed her to practice combat at very close quarters, and was probably good seeing as she was still a little stiff and sleepy.
Forty minutes into her bout, someone entered the courts and began watching her from the shadows. Their mental shields were tightly down and there was no sense of danger from them, so she ignored the person. Considering them no immediate threat, she turned most of her attention back to the droid.
It shut off automatically ten minutes later, and Phaelon was glad to stop, allowing her blade to point at the floor while she bent over to catch her breath. The lower power settings allowed her to spar longer, but she still felt it when it was over. Deactivating her lightsaber, she rubbed at a stitch in her side, running her fingers carefully over the three long scars that ran down her torso.
"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" she demanded to the darkness.
Kyp materialized out of the shadows from where he'd been watching. "That's a nice hello," he returned, "especially when I come bringing news."
"What'd you do this time?" she asked, wiping her face with a towel and walking towards the exit.
"How much trust you have in me," he replied, affecting a look of indignation as he fell into step with her. "Actually, I came down to tell you that Master Skywalker's mentioned your case of mastery to the Council again. We're to discuss it when we meet tomorrow along with elevating some of the Apprentices to Knights."
She shrugged. "What's new about that, it's happened before. I don't want an Apprentice, so I don't get made a master. That's your choice if you want to act childish about it."
He flinched. "Don't you even want to know my position before you start the verbal abuse?"
"Let me guess. You're against it," she retorted immediately.
"If you must know," he replied with a sigh. "I am not. I've been for your promotion from the beginning," – She eyed him warily, and he continued. – "because you're a very skilled Jedi. You're also one of the most even tempered. Admit it, if they make me a Master, there's no reason not to make you one."
She snorted. "If I'm supposed to believe that – who or what is blocking my promotion?"
"Maybe I'll tell you later," he teased, turning and heading down a long corridor that led to the dining hall.
o:o:o