Weeks Later
Winter gave way to spring, and the city was slowly undergoing a sort of transformation. Gone were the daily rain showers and cloudy skies – as the spring equinox approached, Kyle found that more and more of his lessons were taking place outside, in the Temple’s great courtyard. Here, he could feel the thoughts and emotions of the other students, though (generally) Gree shielded him from these pupils.
“These students have known each other since they arrived. They have had years to create bonds with one another.” Gree had said when Kyle first asked about why he was so shielded from the other students. “You are new, you’re training is to important for friends and relationships to get in the way of it.”
They did not speak of it again, but Kyle found himself wondering (despite his Master’s words) if the old man was doing the right thing. The other Jedi students seemed to support one another in their efforts, giving each the support that Kyle lacked. It was something that, perhaps, he would ask Gree about again in the future.
For the moment, his concentration was needed in the “here and now, where it belongs”, as Gree had put it.
The exercise in question had Kyle pitted against three remotes. The tiny, silver orbs were nonlethal, but they fired a stingshot that would leave a welt if it managed to get past his defences. Kyle had been training with a lightsaber for several weeks now. Not his own weapon – the Temple had a small cache of “training sabers”, weapons that had at one time or another belonged to Jedi Masters and had been donated to the Temple when their owners died or crafted new weapons for themselves.
The one Kyle held had, Gree told him, once belonged to a Jedi by the name of Ren Jangar. The man had led the Rogue Jedi Order, for a time, after the disappearance of Gash Jiren. But he had been lost recently, whether killed or succumbed to the Dark Side was unknown, and his weapon had found its way into the vault at the Temple.
“Concentrate!” Gree’s voice, and the sting of a shot hitting his thigh, snapped Kyle out of his thoughts. The remotes were circling, moving in for the kill. Getting a new grip on his lightsaber, Kyle offered a thin smile to the remotes, and they seemed to respond. The first one rose upward a meter on its jets and fired off a series of snapshots in the Apprentice’s general direction.
It would have been a relatively easy matter to deflect the bolts, but Kyle sidestepped instead, letting the shots go wide, and brought his blade up to block the shots from the two other remotes, which had taken advantage of the first’s movements to try and flank him.
Remotes, though, unlike humans were never surprised by the success of their enemy, and these came on strong, all of them firing from different heights and angles to try and catch him off guard. Kyle wanted to comment that it was a little bit unfair, and that no enemy would have the manoeuvrability and speed the remotes did, but he knew it would be useless. Jedi training was not supposed to be easy, at any rate.
He ducked two blasts and deflected a third off the his lightsaber’s shimmering blade. The dart returned to where it had come from, striking the remote dead centre and killing it. The device, little more than metal and wiring now, hit the flagstone ground with a dull thud and rolled away from the battlefield.
But there were still two more out there, and these came on with more aggressiveness than Kyle had ever seen in a remote. Firing unmercilessly from two directions, the young man found it taxing simply to move the lightsaber fast enough to deflect their bolts. Luckily for him, however, the Jedi had ways to keep themselves from succumbing to fatigue, and Kyle took a moment to tap into the Force and replenish his strength before going on the offensive once more.
Deflecting bolts from both remotes still, he jumped into the air and used the force to keep both his lift and his spin going, and slammed a booted foot home against one of the remotes. This one went flying, its jets unable to regain its integrity before it hit the nearest wall and rebounded into the ground, crackling with energy.
That left one remote, which was hovering just outside his range, firing the occasional shot as if to judge the young Jedi’s abilities. Kyle smiled, as if invited the device to attack him. It did, dropping a meter in less than a second and shooting towards Kyle, shooting its stingbolts all the while.
The remote shot between his legs and planted a series of stingbolts in Kyle’s backside before he could turn, and continued to do so until he turned and swept it from the air with his lightsaber. The two pieces fell, broken, to the flagstones, and Kyle shut down his lightsaber.
He realized for the first time that he was breathing heavily, and when he looked up he found his master standing over him, smiling slightly.
“That was quite a performance, Young Jedi.” Gree said. Reaching out, he took the lightsaber from Kyle’s hand and turned away.
It was, for the old man, praise indeed.
Winter gave way to spring, and the city was slowly undergoing a sort of transformation. Gone were the daily rain showers and cloudy skies – as the spring equinox approached, Kyle found that more and more of his lessons were taking place outside, in the Temple’s great courtyard. Here, he could feel the thoughts and emotions of the other students, though (generally) Gree shielded him from these pupils.
“These students have known each other since they arrived. They have had years to create bonds with one another.” Gree had said when Kyle first asked about why he was so shielded from the other students. “You are new, you’re training is to important for friends and relationships to get in the way of it.”
They did not speak of it again, but Kyle found himself wondering (despite his Master’s words) if the old man was doing the right thing. The other Jedi students seemed to support one another in their efforts, giving each the support that Kyle lacked. It was something that, perhaps, he would ask Gree about again in the future.
For the moment, his concentration was needed in the “here and now, where it belongs”, as Gree had put it.
The exercise in question had Kyle pitted against three remotes. The tiny, silver orbs were nonlethal, but they fired a stingshot that would leave a welt if it managed to get past his defences. Kyle had been training with a lightsaber for several weeks now. Not his own weapon – the Temple had a small cache of “training sabers”, weapons that had at one time or another belonged to Jedi Masters and had been donated to the Temple when their owners died or crafted new weapons for themselves.
The one Kyle held had, Gree told him, once belonged to a Jedi by the name of Ren Jangar. The man had led the Rogue Jedi Order, for a time, after the disappearance of Gash Jiren. But he had been lost recently, whether killed or succumbed to the Dark Side was unknown, and his weapon had found its way into the vault at the Temple.
“Concentrate!” Gree’s voice, and the sting of a shot hitting his thigh, snapped Kyle out of his thoughts. The remotes were circling, moving in for the kill. Getting a new grip on his lightsaber, Kyle offered a thin smile to the remotes, and they seemed to respond. The first one rose upward a meter on its jets and fired off a series of snapshots in the Apprentice’s general direction.
It would have been a relatively easy matter to deflect the bolts, but Kyle sidestepped instead, letting the shots go wide, and brought his blade up to block the shots from the two other remotes, which had taken advantage of the first’s movements to try and flank him.
Remotes, though, unlike humans were never surprised by the success of their enemy, and these came on strong, all of them firing from different heights and angles to try and catch him off guard. Kyle wanted to comment that it was a little bit unfair, and that no enemy would have the manoeuvrability and speed the remotes did, but he knew it would be useless. Jedi training was not supposed to be easy, at any rate.
He ducked two blasts and deflected a third off the his lightsaber’s shimmering blade. The dart returned to where it had come from, striking the remote dead centre and killing it. The device, little more than metal and wiring now, hit the flagstone ground with a dull thud and rolled away from the battlefield.
But there were still two more out there, and these came on with more aggressiveness than Kyle had ever seen in a remote. Firing unmercilessly from two directions, the young man found it taxing simply to move the lightsaber fast enough to deflect their bolts. Luckily for him, however, the Jedi had ways to keep themselves from succumbing to fatigue, and Kyle took a moment to tap into the Force and replenish his strength before going on the offensive once more.
Deflecting bolts from both remotes still, he jumped into the air and used the force to keep both his lift and his spin going, and slammed a booted foot home against one of the remotes. This one went flying, its jets unable to regain its integrity before it hit the nearest wall and rebounded into the ground, crackling with energy.
That left one remote, which was hovering just outside his range, firing the occasional shot as if to judge the young Jedi’s abilities. Kyle smiled, as if invited the device to attack him. It did, dropping a meter in less than a second and shooting towards Kyle, shooting its stingbolts all the while.
The remote shot between his legs and planted a series of stingbolts in Kyle’s backside before he could turn, and continued to do so until he turned and swept it from the air with his lightsaber. The two pieces fell, broken, to the flagstones, and Kyle shut down his lightsaber.
He realized for the first time that he was breathing heavily, and when he looked up he found his master standing over him, smiling slightly.
“That was quite a performance, Young Jedi.” Gree said. Reaching out, he took the lightsaber from Kyle’s hand and turned away.
It was, for the old man, praise indeed.