An old slug, a young slug Chapter ?, a star wars fanfic

Chapter ?: Duel of the fates prototype

The auditorium was packed, excited chatter filling the air as the Initiates, as well as full fledged Knights, Masters, and even whatever member of the Corps was available made their way to the seats. The fosterers struggled valiantly to keep the children somewhat quiet, but the excitement was too much for a child to manage as their teachers would wish. Even some Jedi looked like they were attending a final grav-ball match, exchanging half-serious bets and speculating on the contestants. Some others, including Council members, looked at the arena with contemplative looks, and talked between themselves in hushed tones, considering deeper implications.

Clan Clawmouse, in particular, was particularly excited for the upcoming match, their most famous graduate being one of the participants, and without the teachers permission had made signs to cheer for Master Beldorion. They were matched in their enthusiasm by Clan Bear, sponsored this year by Master Yoda and thus considered "his" clan by them. A playful rivalry had been established, calling each other (not very rude) names while they sat in nearby groups, their fosterers resigned to their rambuctiousness. Even the smallest younglings joined in cheering when their fellows did, even if they had no idea what they were doing.

"Yes, act like holovid heroes we will. Hope the loss won't sting so much that you dissolve, young slug." Beldorion chuckled, and ramped up his acting. "You foolish frog! You face Beldorion of the Ruby Eyes today, and to face me is to face defeat!" With a huge grin, he ignited his dual lightsabers. "Size matters not, but skill, young Padawan. Or then again, graduate sometime you did, did you not?" Beldorion did roll his eyes, less worried about his image, and mockingly commiserated, "don't worry about it, elder, memory is the first thing to go, or memory, your bathroom training, and trash talking skills in your particular case." As Yoda harrumphed, Beldorion charged.

Gradually, the noise subsided as there was a change in the air. The Masters were the first to turn to look at the entrance, while their less sensitive colleagues seemed to catch on later, or follow their lead. Master Yoda entered, taking a theatrical look around and turning back to speak to the Hutt behind him. "Gathered some public, we have, a relaxing sparring session we will not have." Silence answered him, then a deep voice replied, "Let them watch. This won't take long." Yoda frowned minutely, but reminded himself Beldorion was blunt to a fault, even if not usually so presumptuous. "As you wish it then, but don't discount me because of my age, no spring chicken you are either." Beldorion ignited his double saber, and nodded to Yoda. "Very well, consider me chastised. But I don't underestimate you, or anyone. The things I've learned... it really will be a quick match."

Beldorion waited until Yoda ignited his own saber, then extended his hand towards him, making a gesture similar to a Force grip. Yoda's eyes widened as a blast of lightning came down from an overhead light to strike him, only literal precognitive reflexes saving him from losing the match in one blow, as the electricity scorched the ground he had vacated. "Of course, your spin on Force Lightning this is, tricky and unaligned. Insufficient, but impressive." Before ending his speech, Yoda charged. Beldorion smiled a small smile, then his image disappeared as Yoda's saber struck him. "And your own speed is impressive Master, but also insufficient." As he appeared at Yoda's back he attacked with both sabers, the older Master defly dodging without looking. The battle raged on, ever more esoteric skills coming from both fighters. Beldorion's win took longer than expected.

Gradually, the noise subsided as there was a change in the air. The Masters were the first to turn to look at the entrance, while their less sensitive colleagues seemed to catch on later, or follow their lead. Master Yoda entered, taking a theatrical look around and turning back to speak to the Hutt behind him. "Gathered some public, we have, a relaxing sparring session we will not have." Silence was his reply, then a growling voice answered him. "You treat this like a joke, do you? You spit on the Republic, the Order, and the Force itself with your ineptitude and then jest about it? Worthless scum." Yoda's frown was visible even to the least observant among the public, as he scolded Beldorion, "careful must you be, to not let anger consume you, anger leads to..." Yoda dodged a telekinetically thrown table, as Beldorion interrupted with violence. Sepulchral silence filled the auditorium, as the mood immediately soured. Their personal issues seemed to have reached a climax after all this time.

"Too late you are, friend, it has been too long, and I tire of your delays and prevarication. The Republic falls apart around your ears and you claim the Sith are a made up threat, you keep the Order stagnant and useless." He ignited his greatsaber, and twirled it. "When a new day rises, you will be left behind. But don't worry." He smiled "I promise I won't be joining the Sith." He moved, too fast for most to see, his saber moving in an upwards crescent that Yoda hurriedly parried, backflipping to bleed the force away. Yoda caught his breath, then replied in a cold voice: "The Order is strong, Beldorion, and it will thrive for an age still. Sad I am that you won't be part of it." The watching Jedi grew grim, as it dawned on them that they were witnesses to the Hutt's last day among them. A fast-paced battle raged, and in the silence, a confused youngling started crying.

Author's note:

Yoda and Beldorion, good old friends, meet for a regular practice spar, with a few of their friends watching. Nothing to see here, folks.