Exactly what happened after that they left Kretha, Rey wasn't too sure. There had been Chewie and Finn lowering her onto the seats and an aaaaaargh, when the Falcon lifted off, which she supposed must've come from her. There'd also been the sharp prick of a needle, administered by either Finn or Rose, at which point things became rather fuzzy. The next thing she was sure of was waking up in the infirmary in the Ibanus station.
There, she found herself with ample time to think. Even with the best medical tech the Resistance had, she still had to endure a day in a bacta suit – mercifully not a tank, submersion horrified her – and a couple of weeks' enforced rest after that.
It was very much enforced rest. There'd been a thorough talking-to from Dr Kalonia, who then had the head of the ward, a matronly Sullustan woman, keep an eye on Rey.
Admittedly, that had been warranted even after Kalonia's stern words. Rey was restless. She had tried and failed to slip away early on the third day. Her failure burned inside her, a secondary pang every time she aggravated the injury.
She'd been foolish, a slave to her own fighting style, and she had a duty to her friends to be better than that. Kanan Jarrus, the Rebel Jedi hero who'd slain at least two Imperial Inquisitors, wouldn't have been bested half as easily. A performance like that would never pass muster against Kylo Ren. She needed to be better.
She needed to train more – there wasn't time to waste in bed, damnit. At least that had been the plan until she bumped into the head nurse, stood right outside the door with her arms stolidly folded.
For that attempted escape, there had been a thorough scolding from the doctor, followed by a gentle reprimand from Poe. Reluctantly, Rey acquiesced, and settled in for a fortnight of downtime. At least Chewbacca had left Gial the Porg to keep her company, and brought her the old Jedi texts to leaf through.
The others dropped in whenever they could, especially Kaydel. Finn, Chewie, Rose and Poe were largely tied up in training and minor assignments offworld, and Kaydel felt a need to plug the gap their absence created. She also insisted on regularly bringing Rey some of her cooking to supplement the base rations, and brought a projector to while away some time with a holofilm or two. Rey had no complaints about any of that.
And perhaps apart from Rose, it was Kaydel who took the most pains to get the injured Jedi to relax. As such, she frowned when she found Rey still studying the holocrons one afternoon. "You sure you should be dwelling on what happened, Rey?" she asked, pulling up a chair.
"It's not dwelling," Rey responded, though she said it gently and deactivated the device, the metal pieces clicking back into place around the crystal core. Gial mewled, apparently dismayed at the loss of the lightshow. "Hush, you," Rey told him, before she spoke to Kaydel. "It's being constructive. I'm trying to learn from what went wrong on Kretha."
"Fair enough. Oh, before I forget…" Kaydel rummaged in her satchel and produced a little sealed pot. "Chewie told me you tried some Muja fruit recently and liked them, so I went down to the kitchens, and…"
"Aww, you're too sweet." Rey was tempted to make a crack of the "But still no flowers for me?" variety, but decided that was likely the anaesthetic talking. She would have liked Kaydel to bring her flowers, in the abstract. She'd have liked it a great deal. But she didn't feel brave enough for what that would represent.
Which, yes, felt stupid when she'd just been in a battle and been badly knocked about by a bounty hunter with a rotten attitude…
Kaydel's words shook her out of her reverie. "And you're sure it's a theory issue, not a practical one?" She made a sceptical face. "That bounty hunter had been killing for decades, Rey. He had way more experience than you. Isn't that just something that more practice will fix?"
Rey shook her head, rolling the holocron between her hands. "It's not just that, Kaydes. He was Force-sensitive too, and-" She stopped herself and looked at Kaydel. "Wait, are you not telling me off for that nickname anymore?"
Her answer came with an impish smile. "It's grown on me." But Kaydel wasn't about to let Rey derail her, and made a beckoning kind of gesture. "So come on Rey, tell me. What's your read on this?"
"It might sound a bit odd," Rey said cautiously.
That got her a raised eyebrow. "I think I can take weird from a Jedi at this point."
That brought a smile to Rey's face. As did Gial, when he nuzzled her under the chin. "Fair enough," she said, tickling the little creature. She suppressed her laughter though – that still hurt. "Well, in a lot of ways, I think it's down to the fighting style I've been using."
As much as Form IV felt right for Rey, she was now inescapably aware of its weaknesses. Contrasting against Niman, it was superlative in the offence, but it had proved a relatively fragile style of combat. When the hunter laid into her, she'd struggled, hampered by the environment. And yet, when she'd fallen back on Niman, that too hadn't been enough.
"So you're saying?" Kaydel prodded.
Rey smiled. "I've had the wrong approach to this. I've been compensating for gaps in my style, rather than plugging them properly."
Ataru was excellent for facing individual opponents – if she could press them to a finish quickly. Otherwise she was putting herself at risk of fatigue, simply from the duration of the fight. Conversely, she'd already gone up against large groups of Stormtroopers several times, multiple enemies at close range, the works. The First Order supplied a full spectrum of hazards, and she couldn't help to control the circumstances of every fight.
"Right." Kaydel was frowning, not fully understanding yet. "And how are you gonna do that plugging?"
"Evolving," Rey replied.
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As soon as she was allowed, she went back to practice, to make good on that intent. To branch out from the standard Forms, to root herself in one but integrate aspects of another, was what she needed to do.
The solution came from the opposite direction. Rey knew she had to plug the gaps in her style, counter its deficiencies. If Niman wasn't enough, then she would simply have to go further, pulling from a Form or Forms which were truly defensive in their style.
That meant Soresu and Shien, minimalist where Ataru was ornate, defensive where the Aggression Form earned its name. She threw herself back into her studies, watching both Drallig's lessons on those styles and those of Jedi who had specialised in Forms III or V.
Rey experimented briefly with Djem So, remembering how effective it had seemed for Kylo Ren, but found it dissatisfying and overly static. More reluctantly, she had to concede that she didn't really have the strength for it.
As the specialist for that style, one Jaro Tapal, said himself, "Djem So makes great physical demands of its practitioners, quite different to those of Ataru and Makashi. As well as Force- derived power, it requires considerable native strength." Which the imposing Lasat did not seem to have lacked, Rey thought. "We do not ride and redirect an enemy's momentum, but instead we break it. We meet an attack head-on, sap its power, and strike back at a reeling opponent. For that, you need physical heft, or you will not be able to shoulder this Form's strain."
Rey saw the sense in that. And when the projection exhorted her to "think upon the Krayt Dragon, for which the Form was named. Consider that strength, that ability to weather assaults and riposte with enough power to obliterate any attacker…" she grimaced and admitted to herself that no, that wasn't her.
Soresu and Shien it was, then. The fusion of the two provided more scope for, as Tapal had implied, a more mobile kind of defence that complimented Ataru instead of conflicting with it. She found ways to bridge the two, taking the momentum of an attack and channelling it into her own.
So when the training droid halted her flow and riposted, Rey would keep her bladework tight and use minimal dodges before she found an opening and attacked again. Ataru to Soresu to Shien and back.
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At least, it was easy enough to say that. To do it, to hold the two competing ideas in her head, was rather more difficult. Again and again, her concentration, her balance in the Force, would teeter when she moved between Forms.
It was as if she was leaping from one hurtling speeder to another, and it was as tricky to maintain her composure as that image implied. She would pull back, switch her movements over to Soresu or Shien, but the part of her which was connected to the Force couldn't keep up. So often her focus would come apart again and the droid would catch her with a stinging hit which left her yowling creative curses at it.
"You're trying to force it," Leia eventually told her.
"Sorry?" Rey peered at her quizzically.
Leia indulged her with that radiant smile. "You're doing what Luke did, back when he was still learning. I'd see it in how he moved. When he switched Forms it was jerky, like an old speeder changing gears."
"And what should it be?" Rey asked, just a little defensively.
"It should flow." There was a knowing look in the General's eyes which said Rey should know better than to ask that question – and rightly so. "Right now you're wrenching yourself from one style to another and trying to… jam yourself into a difference frame of mind. Your approach is the issue." Leia came close. "This," she said gently, pointing to the staff in Rey's hands, "doesn't steer this." Her finger hovered in front of Rey's forehead. "Does it?"
Chastened, Rey nodded.
"You favour Ataru, Rey, the way of the Hawk-Bat. So think of the Hawk-Bat – not only in how it fights, but when it doesn't. And remember that you're more than the creature that the style's named after. If you fight as the Hawk-Bat, then you're still just projecting yourself into that state of mind. Don't let it constrain you."
Rey let her shoulders sag slightly. "Easier in theory than practice, it seems."
That got her a gently reproachful look. "You know, when Dr Kalonia told you to rest up, she meant more than just physically, Rey. And at least up here," she tapped Rey's temple. "You've been in breach of doctor's orders."
Rey frowned. "So I should…"
Leia's hand closed on the staff. "So you should put your weapon down for a little bit, Rey. Refocus. The staff will still be ready when you come back."
When the General left, Rey did as she was bade. She sat down, closed her eyes, and let the outside world fall away as she reached inside herself. Peeled back the layers, again letting her worries and emotions drift off.
So what to make of this conflict? What were these elements in her which clashed?
She began by examining her grounding in Ataru. It fits because of my anger. It's easily channelled in that Form, but then if I pivot to Soresu, I have to rein it back in. Without that calm, my Soresu's out of balance. She resisted the urge to knead her temples. I can be calm, I managed it for training in Niman and I can perform Soresu and Shien if I start out in those Forms. But the transition, rowing back from that anger, defeats me.
She thought further. So let's delve deeper. What feeds that anger? What ignites it?
She thought back to the forest, and chased her rage back to its source. Kylo Ren's attack on Finn. His murder of Han.
She felt as though her fingers had closed upon a handhold. Here it was the root of her anger, and it was her instinct to protect, to stand up for those she cared for. They weren't opposed, they were cause and effect. Now she'd found it, the thread that held the two together, and she felt as if a light had come on in her head. Her anger was simply an extension of her compassion.
"Well, I could've told you that," Kaydel pouted later, and giggled when Rey stuck her tongue out at her.
But the point was that now, Rey herself understood, feeling it in her bones. And with understanding, came control.
Despite her deep-sunken state, Rey felt the smile which broke out on her face. Here was what she needed. Fusion – synergy. Balance.
She stood, and before she even opened her eyes, she called the staff into her hands. Right. Let's try this.
"Let's have five minutes," she told her training droid. "Moderate intensity, randomised patterns. Opposition present. And… go!"
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"That looks like improvement," Leia said warmly, when she stepped back in about half an hour later.
Rey cued the droid to shut down, and turned to Leia, spinning her staff before halting it, behind her back. "It feels like it too," she grinned. Bringing the staff into motion again she mimed a series of Soresu blocks, then a Shien counter and rode the momentum into an Ataru flurry. "Even the Form IV stuff, it feels like I understand it better now. I have a handle on my passion."
Leia favoured her with an approving smile. "Luke would be proud. He always told me that in his opinion, the surest way to fix any issues that arose where saber combat is concerned is to look inwards." She saw the look in her eyes and nodded. "As it is for so many problems. I think," and here sorrow intruded into Leia's voice, "that's something that Ben never managed to learn."
Rey studied her mentor carefully, suddenly dreading that she might say the wrong thing. She was also uncomfortably aware that in many ways, the point of all this was that she would bring her new skills to bear against Ben Solo, in battle. Perhaps even to kill him.
But Leia waved a hand, dispelling the moment and relieving Rey of the need to form an appropriate reply. "Ah, let's not dwell on that. This is your training, Rey, and I don't want to overshadow your achievement. Now come and get some food, I insist."
Rey put her free hand on her stomach, which was feeling quite empty now. "I could hardly refuse."
