Chapter 3: The Initiate Trials
Jedi Master Jaro Tapal hiked into the stands of the gymnasium and sighed.
At 50 years cycles old, he was not in the mood to take on another Padawan learner (he had raised three apprentices to Knighthood already), but Grandmaster Yoda had insisted that he at least come and watch the matches.
Up here in the viewing box, he encountered a colleague. "Master Dooku. Come to select another Padawan for yourself, then, yes?"
"Oh, no, Master Tapal, not I!" Dooku chuckled drolly. "I am finding more and more the Initiate Trials to be a spectator sport." He smirked a little too himself. "In any case, I daresay I could not hope for much better than my last Padawan."
Jaro tipped his head in deference. "Qui-Gon Jinn is an able warrior, if a little…. unorthodox." The hulking Lasat grimaced. "He certainly would not have retained those traits had he been my apprentice…" (He did not notice how hard Dooku was frowning) "….. but still, he does you credit. He had his own Padawan once more, doesn't he?"
Dooku stroked his chin. "Yes…. The lad must be 19, nearly 20 already. A talented one. But that's the extent of my knowledge. Missions keep Qui-Gon and his charge rather busy; I hardly see the fellow anymore…."
Jaro laid a hand on his colleague's shoulder. "Perhaps, for young Master Jinn, that is a good problem to have. Why, I remember how he was when Xanatos…."
"As do I. None of us should want to revisit it," Dooku clipped curtly. Jaro pursed his purple lips. He let the matter drop.
The excited hubbub from the gathered Knights and Masters grew to a hush when Grandmaster Yoda hobbled out onto the tumbling mats laid upon the length of the gymnasium floor. He tapped his cane twice for order, though it was hardly needed.
"Welcome you, Knights and Masters, we do. The twelve-year-cycles of the mighty Bear Clan, for your evaluation, I present! Between Initiates Baylan Skoll and Gellayria Coxswain, the first match will be."
Baylan fought off a groan. Crossing to the center mat, he bowed low at the waist to the visiting Knights and Masters. Closing his eyes, he prepared to center himself in the Force while powering up his training lightsaber. These laser swords, when coming into contact with an opponent, would only sting, rather than cut.
All sound in the gymnasium seemed to suck away. Baylan opened his eyes.
Standing across from him, Gellayria was eyeing him with a glinting relish that would have been adorable if it wasn't also…. slightly unnerving. Baylan pushed away any self-doubt as he dropped into his stance, ignoring also the murmurs coming up from the spectators as they studied said stance: classic Form V. Vapaad. It was the most aggressive form of lightsaber combat, rarely seen. Though technically not forbidden, many Jedi strongly advised against its teaching, believing that it skirted too close to the Dark Side.
Baylan, however, found it the most suitable for the power it wielded. The energy that was required to be accomplished at Form V seemed suitable for such an already ungainly, growing lad like himself. He was the tallest of any one in his youngling clan, and sported the largest feet. Such was the nature of Force puberty.
Tilting his head, he pondered Gellayria as she shifted into her own stance. He wanted to laugh, and nearly did: Form IV. Ataru. If he had a credit for every time he'd seen an Initiate adopt that lightsaber form…
This bout should be relatively easy, he figured. If Gellayria Coxswain dueled half as well as a she gossiped (and of this, Baylan was confidently doubtful), she should by now already be apprenticed and even rivaling Master Yoda as a swordsman.
"Initiates: begin!" Yoda called.
Baylan let out a growl and went in on the attack, pressing the advantage. He went for an overhead strike… and was startled by the speed at which Gellayria rolled out of the way. Baylan spun, perhaps putting a little too much showboating attitude into the graceful pirouette, even as he pursued his quarry. He went for a slice to her thighs, but Gellayria parried. And not only did she parry, but she held her ground, her stance as solid as durasteel.
Baylan fought not to blink and attempted to regain the balance of power again. He slashed out of the blade lock and went for a thrusting stab, but Gellayria was too quick: she backflipped, creating some distance, landed in a perfect handstand, then folded her body and rotated – while still on her hands – in a kind of blur.
Her foot connected with his shin and Baylan went down hard, letting out a kind of shocked howl. He felt the HSSSSSSSHHHH of his opponent's blade coming right for his neck and he rolled out of the way, now on the backfoot. On the defensive.
Arrogance was quickly giving way to bewilderment. Almost without his realizing it, Baylan was being forced to abandon his signature Form V and fall back into patterns more reminiscent of Soresu. Form III. It was the style most commonly used by those who held one credo of the Order above all others: a Jedi's job should be to defend, never to attack.
As he and Gellayria jousted back and forth along the training mats, Baylan was left with no choice but to reevaluate his classmate with fresh eyes. In between parries and pattern dances, he wheeled back through what he knew about Gellayria, which came mostly from what he had been told, or had been rumored: they said that she had been born on Kijimi, but there was a steady debate about her parentage. Some in the Bear Clan claimed she was a princess of the monarchy there. Others theorized that she was a gutter womp rat, abandoned in the streets before The Call had brought the Jedi to her rescue.
The crackle of his adversary's blade drifted too close for comfort in the midst of an underhanded stab, causing Baylan to file away one more thing he now knew: Gellayria may not be the best swordsman in their Clan in terms of technique, or even the most eager to apply what they learned, but the Force if she wasn't the most competitive Initiate he had ever encountered. In most, that kind of competitive streak, the need to win, could be considered dangerous, a path to the Dark Side, if not tendered well.
The hilt of a training saber was light, and yet Baylan gripped his tightly with both hands anyway, lunging into a turning leap as he tried to regain momentum, driving Gellayria back. He hacked and sliced, but his blade was hitting nothing but air now.
Suddenly, to his astonishment, Gellayria charged him. Baylan made an open move for her neck….
…. But Gellayria bent her back at nearly 90 degrees as she dropped to her knees and slid under Baylan's saber, her inertia carrying her well behind him. Baylan started to spin around to re-engage –
… only to feel Gellayria's saber suddenly kissing his neck. She smirked. "You are beaten."
Baylan's lips twisted into a sneering scowl. Utterly humiliated, he powered down his training saber. "I yield."
The Masters and Knights burst into rapturous applause. Baylan couldn't believe it. …. He'd lost! And to the biggest blabbermouth this side of the Western Reaches! He almost forgot to go through the perfunctory motions of bowing to the visiting Jedi elders.
Lifting his head, Baylan was startled when his gaze met that of a brooding Lasat who appeared to be staring directly at him. More like staring him down.
Flushing, Baylan turned towards where Gellayria was being congratulated by many of their peers. Approaching, he stuck out his hand. "…. Well done."
Gellayria blinked, but she shook his head. Baylan then took a step back and even bowed in deference for good measure. Gellayria blushed, her lips held in a thin line almost as if to hide a smile. Her eyes darted askance, as if she felt he was making a scene.
Master Yoda approached. "Baylan. Gellayria. Come with me, you will. Taken an interest in you, a Jedi has.
Baylan and Gellayria were led by Master Yoda into a circular room. There were two Jedi waiting for them, and Baylan tensed uncertainly when he noticed that one of them was the Lasat Jedi Master who had been staring at him.
The other Jedi was a young woman, a Chalactan by the looks of her. In terms of year cycles, Baylan had to surmise that she couldn't be much beyond passing the Knighthood Trials herself.
"Decide between you, Master Tapal and Knight Shaden Wessiri cannot. Further study you, they wish to."
Baylan's eyes went huge as the hulking Lasat, with his broad shoulders and purple skin, now turned and seemed to almost disembowel him with his eyes. Baylan chanced a nervous glance at Gellayria. Since Jaro Tapal was the honored guest, surely he would pick the victor? The Initiate who had won fair and square?
Master Tapal now circled both Baylan and Gellayria judiciously. The expression on his face was stern. Almost severe.
At last, the Lasat turned to his Knight colleague. The pair of full-fledged Jedi seemed to speak an entire conversation with no words – just through the Force alone.
"Knight Wessiri, if you have no objections to my selecting first pick?"
The Chalactan shook her head with a deferential smile.
Baylan felt his heart sink. While he might become a Padawan this day, it would likely be to a Master who had barely shorn off her Padawan braid herself.
But then Master Tapal spoke:
"There is much still yet to mold in the vanquished…." Baylan felt his heart drop further. "The boy has much potential. …. He needs to be trained."
Baylan glanced up sharply, shocked and elated, only to wilt under Jaro's fierce yet probing stare.
"Yes, I think you will do well for me, young Baylan Skoll."
Baylan straightened, and swallowed.
"I…. I accept, Master Jaro Tapal."
"That will do," Jaro turned away with a snap. "Come along, Padawan."
Sparing Gellayria one last glance, Baylan trudged after his new Jedi Master.