Coordination

"Alright Padawan, if you're warmed up, let's try some sparring today."

Obi-Wan bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet, far too excited for so early in the morning. He'd been practicing aerials in his saber class and he was absolutely, positively certain that he would win today's spar.

Trying to hide his intentions in the force, Obi-Wan bounded onto the mat and took his position before igniting his lightsaber, lowering the power level slightly. Qui-Gon shook his head ruefully and took the spot across from him, pleasently amused by his charge's enthusiasm.

As he leaned forward to give his customary bow, still distracted by trying to plan out his match-winning combination, Obi-Wan felt his balance shift too far. He waved his arms, trying to recover, but fell forward anyways, stumbling over his own feet. At the very last second, he caught himself, but not before driving the tip of his lightsaber... straight through his Master's foot.

Obi-Wan gasped, shutting the weapon off and scrambling to his feet, fully convinced he was going to be thrown from the top of one of the spires. His Master glanced down at the trembling student, fear and panic leeching into their bond, and spoke through gritted teeth.

"It's quite alright, Obi-Wan. Accidents happen. Please go get the Healers, now."

Obi-Wan turned and sprinted away, trying not to think of the inevitable essay on lightsaber safety he'd be working on for the next week. Qui-Gon sat down on the mat as soon as his apprentice was out of sight, falling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.

That makes three apprentices in a row. I wonder if it's some sort of dare the older Padawans put their younger siblings through.

Oops

"Oops. I'm sorry, Master."

Obi-Wan wanted to reply to his student. Really, he did. However, it was difficult to focus on talking to someone when you had a lightsaber buried in your shoulder.

It was a cruel irony. Lowering the power level enough to make it safe for practice meant that the plasma blade didn't completely cauterize the nerve endings, sending white-hot shocks of pain down his arm and up into the back of his head.

He took a breath. And then another. And another, focusing on maintaining his composure and not startling his student by sending anything through their bond. I'm so sorry Qui-Gon. This boy is going to be the death of me. Was I this much trouble at his age and is this your form of payback?

"Master? What's wrong? Besides the saber wound, I mean."

Think, you idiot, answer him. He probably thinks you're going to feed him to a sarlaac.

"I am fine Anakin, it was an accident. However, I am in need of a Healer and perhaps a cup of tea." Bant's never gonna let me hear the end of this.

Anakin nodded; he could see the tension in the boy's frame begin to ease now that he was no longer afraid of being eaten.

"I'll go get them Master. Can I do anything else to help?"

Obi-Wan nodded, clenching his jaw to avoid saying anything he wouldn't want his young charge repeating. "Please take the saber out of my shoulder."

Give me a hand.

Ahsoka grinned, flashing her pointed teeth as she executed another flawless strike. She flipped back and out of range, switching to her preferred reverse grip with practiced ease and launching herself back at him.

Anakin parried her attack, locking their sabers together. They glared at each other, smirking, both completely confident in their path to victory. The bond crackled with competition and teasing, shields swirling to conceal their true motives from the other.

Anakin took a step back to execute another attack, but was so caught up in being unexpected he didn't notice that Ahsoka had geared up for a massive push of effort, unaware that he'd move. With a slash and a sudden flare of sparks, she sliced through his prosthetic hand, enjoying a split second of satisfaction before the impact hit her fully.

Immediately she jumped back and cut off her saber, afraid he'd been seriously hurt. She hung her head, trembling, afraid to move or even look at the damage she'd caused.

Anakin looked down at his severed hand and shook his head, biting back a laugh. He picked it up and walked over to his apprentice, wary of the storm that was brewing within her signature.

But instead of issuing reprimands, he smacked her arm with it lightly and laughed when she jumped, eyes wide with shock.

"No harm done, Snips. Just an accident. C'mon, I bet I can beat you one handed."

Ahsoka met his gaze, confused, unsure whether or not he was joking. Anakin nudged her gently, flooding their link with encouragement and reassurance that it really was alright, that he wsn't upset with her. If anything, it gave him another chance to improve the design.

Ahsoka giggled quietly and twirled her saber in her grip. "Alright Skyguy, you're on!"