MOTF Book II: Ascension Chapter 1

There is no emotion, there is peace.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no death, there is the Force.

These tenets were the core of Jedi philosophy. Over the past few months, Arthur had spent his time learning the ways of the Force and the path of the Jedi. The Code was one of the first things he memorized. But memorization was not enough, as he had been told by Master Mongooku. To truly follow the Jedi Code, one had to understand it. Many a night, Arthur would meditate on the meaning of the Jedi Code, trying to discern the meaning of the sometimes seemingly contradictory tenets. At first, the tenets had seemed contradictory, but then Arthur realized that it was a description of the ideal Jedi. It was a pledge each of the Jedi Order’s members, from Initiate to Grand Master, must swear to uphold to the rest of the Galaxy.

There is no emotion, there is peace. Emotions were a natural part of all beings, yet they were also distractions. Emotions cloud the minds of those who feel them, drawing them in various directions, different, and sometimes contradictory tangents. Emotion was a natural thing, even for a Jedi to feel, and as Mongooku had explained to Arthur, and a Jedi would be foolish to completely ignore their emotions. Like all natural things, there was a reason emotion existed. Love and compassion were meant to form meaningful and mutually beneficial connections between beings. Fear was meant to warn one of danger. Avarice, while dangerous and corruptive, could be understood as a way of determining something’s worth. Anger and hatred were meant to alarm beings to injustice and wrong. Emotions were signs that could be read, but a Jedi must not allow these feelings to control them. A Jedi who could interpret and mediate these emotions, without allowing them to control them, could use whatever insight was gleamed from them to best benefit the Galaxy. The Jedi who could do this was a Jedi at peace with themselves. The extent to which emotions were considered dangerous and controlling was a difficult thing to reconcile as Arthur had understood, even for the greatest of the Jedi. He himself still struggled with the deaths of his parents. He still felt a great sadness weighing him down. While initially he had felt hatred, that had died with Dylan. Arthur considered himself lucky in that respect, because he didn’t know if he’d be able to push those feelings to the side if Dylan were still alive.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. As a Lightor, knowledge was something Arthur had always valued, so understanding of this tenet had come relatively naturally to him. As Master Mongooku had explained to him, not all wrongdoing was intentional. Ignorance, at times, could potentially be as dangerous to oneself and the Galaxy as malevolence and corruption. Decisions made from incomplete information could be just as devastating as mistakes made on the whim of ones own emotions. As such, the Jedi dedicated themselves to learning as much as they could, eliminating ignorance whenever possible. The Jedi archives were a testament to this fact, being the greatest collection of knowledge and information in the entire Galaxy. Sometimes, Arthur and Jaira would go to the archives together and bury themselves in the depths of their research for hours, mesmerized by the seemingly infinite volume of information at their very fingertips. For a Lightor, such a thing was paradise. For a Jedi, it was life.

There is no passion, there is serenity. To many new initiates and Padawans, this tenet of the Jedi Code seemed to simply be a rehash of the first. But, as Arthur had discovered, there were subtle intricacies that created difference and new meaning. Though the differences were not extraordinary, Arthur had been mindful of his second lesson, all those months ago back on the shuttle. Everything is a lesson. Even the smallest details could teach much if a person only took the time and effort to understand them. Passion was emotion taken to its extreme, emotion with purpose and direction, guiding one along a path in life. The Sith relied on their passion for their strength and guidance, as did many beings in the Galaxy. While passion could seem invigorating and purposeful, it was more than a distraction, it was a misdirection. One who followed their passion could not truly follow the will of the Force at the same time. The two paths were contradictory. Only when a Jedi dismissed their passion’s call would they allow the will of the Force to flow through them. Only then would a Jedi see with clarity. Only then would a Jedi be embraced with Serenity.

There is no death, there is the force. As Arthur had been taught by Master Mongooku, the Force is what gave all living beings life, conscience, and spirit. All of these things flowed from the Force. So when a being died, what became of it? It flowed back into the Force. All beings were a part of it. As Grand Master Luke Skywalker had said two thousand years ago, “everything in this universe eventually perishes… we all have our time.” All beings eventually passed away, but the Force, that was eternal, and they would continue to live on as part of the Force, even after their physical demise. Death in the physical sense was inevitable, but in the Force, nothing ever truly dies.

Alongside the Jedi Code, Arthur also learned the Three Pillars of the Jedi: Force, Knowledge, and Self-Discipline. The Force was one of the first things that had been explained to Arthur by Mongooku, before he had even agreed to become a Jedi. The venerable Jedi Master had told him of the Light and the Dark, the way the Force had guided all things, and bound the entire universe together. Arthur had learned of the midi-chlorians that resided within every living creature in the Galaxy. They were microscopic life forms that served as the basis for all life. The connection between life and the Force.  They were symbionts within the cells of every creature, no matter how mighty or insignificant.

Though the Force was within all living things, only a distinct few could feel and draw upon it. These beings, such as the Jedi and the Sith, possessed a greater concentration of midi-chlorians than those who could not touch the force. The Council believed that each member of the Jedi Order was chosen by the Force for this purpose, through the Force manifesting itself via this natural symbiosis. Arthur wasn’t entirely sure whether or not he agreed with this idea, but he supposed it was one of the reasons Mongooku believed he was the child of this great prophecy he had spoken of. If the Jedi believed the will of the Force had chosen each member of the Jedi Order, through the symbiosis between their cells and the midi-chlorians, Arthur could see how he, a person with an immeasurably high count, would be believed to have a great destiny ahead of him.

Many people, both outside of and within the Jedi Order, believed that any focus on midi-chlorians was misguided. Perhaps it was because Arthur was a Lightor, but he actually felt intrigued by the existence of the midi-chlorians. To him, it was an extension of the belief that the Force existed in all things and in different ways. The physical and the metaphysical. The biological, and the spiritual. The corporeal, and the ethereal.

This duality was part of another lesson Arthur had learned. The lesson of the Living Force and the Unifying Force. The living Force was the Force as it related to life. The midi-chlorians and life itself were an extension of the living Force, as was a being’s biological connection to it. The Unifying Force, or the Cosmic Force, as Arthur had sometimes heard it referred to as, was an expansive power, the extension of the Force that bound time and space and governed fate itself.

The Force was the first pillar, because all things began with the Force. The second pillar was knowledge, as intimate knowledge of the Force was what separated those learned in the ways of the Force, from those ignorant in the ways of the Force. As was the second path in the Jedi Code, There is no ignorance, there is knowledge, Arthur realized a Jedi must dedicate themselves to that knowledge of the Force. Learning of the Jedi ways and the ways of the Force was entirely based around knowledge. As a Lightor, Arthur had always valued knowledge, but as a Jedi attuning himself to the Force, the word held a far deeper meaning for him. The Force was indeed the source of all things. To be able to directly draw on that source for enlightenment was a privilege to him, and always a source of amazement.

As mighty as the Force and knowledge were, both had potential to be abused. The Sith were living proof of that. All the knowledge in the Galaxy was meaningless if a person could not control themselves. This was the third pillar of the Jedi: Self-Discipline. Arthur realized from the first time Master Mongooku had taught him to expand his senses that self-discipline was key to mastering the use of the Force. One could not wield the Force or a Lightsaber without first learning to control themselves. Still, like the other apprentices, Arthur could not help but feel a twinge of anticipation and desire to take a up a lightsaber and explore his talents with it. Self Discipline was something that Arthur noticed Terro to struggle with. He helped his fellow Padawan whenever he could, trying to teach him to focus and understand the Force. Over the past few months, he and Jaira had grown profoundly attached to him, and despite his shortcomings, he was somebody Arthur was proud to call his friend.

It was hard to believe the staggering amount of knowledge and wisdom Arthur had acquired over the course of a few months from such, seemingly simple ideas, though, having the Grand Master as his teacher certainly went a long way, and he knew he still had barely scratched the surface of these fundamental ideas in Jedi philosophy. And, as always, knowing the path and walking the path were two different things. He knew the Jedi Code, but there were still times at which he allowed his feelings to get the better of him. Despite this, his master was pleased with the progress he was making. Arthur had grown very close with Mongooku over the past few months, learning to trust his judgement and cherish his wisdom, though Mongooku always encouraged him to ponder things in his own mind before accepting them, rather than blindly believing everything he was told. As Arthur had been quick to learn, ignorance could be accepting information too readily, without a thought to whether or not it was true, just as easily as it could be rejecting knowledge.

Though Arthur had placed a great deal of interest and time into learning the Jedi philosophies, he had also learned how to feel the force around him, and how to connect to it. He had learned how to sharpen his mind, deepen his focus, and strengthen his connection to the force through hours of meditation every day. He had also learned to control his body, to regulate his breathing and movements. He tried to make every move he made in his training was deliberate and purposeful, though some times he had more success than other times.

With control over his body, came the first stages of his training in lightsaber combat; Shii-Cho. As the introductory form in Lightsaber combat, Shii-Cho covered the basic principles, attacks, defenses, and movesets of lightsaber combat. Arthur had advanced in his practice of Shii-Cho quickly, having already employed the use of many similar moves and strategies with his broadsword back on Innamorta. Still, the style had helped him immensely in transitioning from his broad sword, to the Lightsaber, the signature weapon and shield of the Jedi. It had also helped him integrate his connection to the Force into his fighting capabilities, using it to sharpen his mind and control his body.

Arthur had also learned to expand his senses, stretching outwards with his perception in the Force to understand the world around him. This too was something he frequently practiced during his countless hours of focused meditation. After a while, Arthur’s abilities of focus and senses were coming far more naturally to him than they had at the start of his training. Now he could almost subconsciously extend his senses and feel the presences of those around him, sometimes getting a vague sense of their feelings and intentions, though this was still a bit hazy to him. He had also learned to magnify his physical senses with the Force, sharpening his eyesight, focusing on small sounds that rang through his ears, feeling the equilibrium of his body as he underwent physical training. This was key to his skill in lightsaber combat.

He had even learned the basics on how to alter the world around him with the Force, learning quickly how to call upon the Force to aid his physical movements, granting him greater speed, agility, strength, and endurance. Most astonishing of the abilities he had learned so far was called Telekinesis, the ability to move objects without touching them. At first, he had learned to wobble stones, then lift them. He had learned to guide objects through the air, lifting larger and larger masses each time, and with greater precision. Arthur had learned a great many things about the Force since his arrival on Coruscant, but he still had much to learn…

“A Jedi must learn to mesh his abilities,” Mongooku said, “utilizing them in tandem when the situation calls for it. You must learn to mediate control, sense, and alter. Are you ready to begin?”

“Yes,” Arthur said. He and his master were standing in a training room in the Jedi Temple. With his skills in Shii-Cho developed to or beyond the level most Padawans were expected to be familiar with at this point in their training, Mongooku had begun to train him in the basic moves and sequences of Soresu, the third form, optimized for defense and blast deflection. Arthur had expected a challenge, but nothing as broad and encompassing as what was faced before him.

Master Mongooku clapped his hands, and there was a mechanical whirring as several blast deflection training droids activated, and rose into the air, circling Arthur. The young Padawan took the helmet in his hand, and placed it on his head, a blinder completely covering his face, completely blinding him, and dulling his hearing.

“Focus…” Mongooku said calmly.

Arthur focused his mind and body, feeling the Force flow through him. He stretched outward, feeling the room around him with the Force. As usual, he felt the bright and distinct presence of the Grand Master, but he also felt himself, the walls, the floors, and the half a dozen remotes circling his body.

“You must disable the remotes,” Mongooku said. “With either your blade, or a deflected stun bolt. But do not let a single one hit the ground until the exercise is over.”

Arthur held out his training lightsaber in front of him and activating it. He heard the familiar snap-hiss as the either blue or green blade sprung to life in front of him. Mongooku had told him he would have the chance to construct his own lightsaber soon on Illum. Arthur could hardly wait for that day, but right now he had to focus on the task at hand.

Suddenly and without warning, the first remote fired. Trusting his instincts, Arthur brought his blade around in a tight and efficient movement and batted the stun bolt aside with calm and precision. Then they all flew into motion, swirling around the room, firing upon Arthur from various different angles, but Arthur was ready for it. Sensing each and every stun bolt coming his way, Arthur was able to pivot on the balls of his feet, and bring the blade of his training lightsaber around just in time to deflect them.

A feeling of nervous anticipation overcame him. The longer and longer he deflected fire from the six remotes, the more likely it was that one of them would breach his defenses.  He wanted desperately to engage them and reduce their numbers, but he had to be patient. That was the way of Soresu.

As he deflected more and more stun bolts, the remotes began to pick up their firing pace, synchronizing their attacks, and finally, they began to close in on Arthur when all else failed.

Finally, when one got too close, Arthur quickly and efficiently, lashed out with his blade, striking the remote with the tip. Suddenly, that remote deactivated, and began to drop to the ground. As Arthur twirled his lightsaber in his right hand to block a volley of stun bolts from the other five remotes, he reached out with his left hand and caught the deactivated remote. Only, he did not catch the remote in his hand, he caught it with the Force. The Force emanated from him, wrapping himself around the spherical training device and halted its fall and inch above the ground before lifting it back up.

Keeping track of and levitating the deactivated remote with his willpower, Arthur returned his left hand back to the hilt of his blade and spun around to face the other five remotes, his back to the deactivated one behind him. Now, Arthur took advantage of the one time so far in the entire exercise that the active remotes were all in roughly the same direction. Springing into motion, Arthur whipped his blade back and Forth, batting aside bolt after bolt.

Seconds later, Arthur stepped forward and skimmed another remote with the edge of his blade, just as two other remotes were firing upon him. Still keeping the other deactivated remote in his invisible grasp, Arthur reached out to this one much quicker, drawing it towards him with great speed as he swung his lightsaber at an angle to deflect one of the bolts. One of the stun bolts bounced off of Arthur’s blade, striking the remote that fired it, while the other was intercepted by the second deactivated remote, yanked in front of Arthur by the Force just in time to save him. Swiftly, Arthur unleashed the power of the Force across the room, catching the third deactivated remote in an invisible grip.

Taking a step back and pivoting, Arthur swung his blade around to deflect stun bolts from the remaining three remotes. While the number of shooters firing upon him had been cut in half, the task was now far more taxing on Arthur’s mind, as he had to split his focus between deflecting blasterfire from the active remotes, while at the same time levitating the deactivated ones with the power of the Force.

Sweat now drenched Arthur’s Jedi robes. He decided to finish the remaining remotes off before he tired completely. Drawing the Force into his body, Arthur sprang forward with a great burst of speed, slapping one of the stun bolts into one of the three remaining remotes. As he caught that one a foot above the ground with the Force, he hurled the other three remotes in front of him, blocking the fire of the two remaining remotes. He focused his attention on one of them as he dispersed the remotes blocking the path, lining up the vector with which he would deflect the stun bolt. Surely enough, the droid fired, and Arthur immediately slapped the bolt back into it.

Before the sixth and final remote could even react, Arthur embraced the fifth deactivated remote in his telekinetic grasp, extended a hand, and moved all five of the deactivated remotes behind him as he leapt forward in a blindingly fast motion, slashing the final remote out of the air with his blade.

But in his haste, Arthur made a mistake. He had struck the final remote with too much force, sending it hurtling across the room. Desperately, Arthur thrust his free hand forward extending his telekinetic grip towards the final remote. He ended up catching it a centimeter above the floor, but as his focus centered on the final remote, the other five fell to the floor behind him.

Arthur deactivated the training lightsaber, and took the helmet off of his head, expecting to see a disappointed look on his master’s face when he was able to see with his eyes again. Instead, his master looked quite pleased. “I did not expect you to do it the first time,” he said. “But you have exceeded my expectations. Let this be a lesson to you Padawan. What seems like a failure, is just progress that is yet to be made. Do not let that blind you to the progress you have already achieved.”

Arthur smiled as he took a seat in the room next to Mongooku, resting his tired and aching muscles after the intensive exercise. With the power of the Force, he had become a far more formidable fighter. Though he did not like to dwell on it, Arthur knew, that if he had faced Dylan those two times on Innamorta with the knowledge he had now, he would’ve bested him…

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Peace is a lie, there is only passion.
Through passion, I gain strength.
Through strength, I gain power.
Through power, I gain victory.
Through victory, my chains are broken.
The Force shall free me.

These were the words that echoed in Dylan’s mind as he slapped the red lightsaber blade of a Keshiri apprentice aside with his own, immediately lunging in to skewer him, but the apprentice leapt back and brought his blade back up in a defensive position.

Dylan paused, walking slowly to the left, eying the purple skinned humanoid with the same ambitious gaze a predator stared upon its prey with, ready to make a meal out of them. Though they were only fighting with training lightsabers, Dylan treated them as if they were completely lethal, making the experience more vivid and real in his mind, and all the more exciting. The thought of kill or be killed in the back of his head, spurring him on, driving him, the passion of the duel fueling him.

The words of the Sith Code were central to Dylan’s rise in prominence at the Prime Academy over the past few months. The Prime Academy was the temple on Korriban where the strongest of the Sith Apprentices were trained. Initially, Dylan and his friends, Shorya, Fernin and Tormax had only been able to spar with each other on even footing, being something of a wild card with the other students.

When the four Innamortans had first arrived at the Sith academy, they won half and lost half of the sparring matches they engaged in, based upon the distinct advantages they had and lacked over the other students who had been training there for years. At first, many of the apprentices were taken aback by their sheer physical strength, and the Innamortans had been smart to press that in conjunction with their battlefield experience. At the same time however, Dylan and his companions had been at a disadvantage against the other students, whose connection to the Force was far more developed. Their senses were sharper, their reflexes quicker, their skills with a Lightsaber more developed, and their speed was blinding, fueled by the power of the Dark Side.

Since then however, the other apprentices had observed and adapted to properly counter the physical advantage their new rivals held over them. But those apprentices were not the only ones adapting. Over the past few months, Dylan and his friends had been honing their skills with a lightsaber, and deepening their connection to the Dark Side. Initially they had been restricted to Shii-Cho, transitioning from fighting with physical blades, to the bloodshine energy blades of a lightsaber, albiet a training lightsaber. Since then however, their skills had advanced quickly, and they had begun to take up other, more advanced forms of Lightsaber combat.

Fernin had taken up Djem So, the fifth form of lightsaber combat, to press his strength advantage, and because he already had plenty of experience working leverage through his blows from his time wielding a spear. Tormax on the other hand, favored Ataru, the fourth form of lightsaber combat, seeking to overwhelm his opponents with speed as much as strength, the quick flurries of bladework resembling the way he had fought with his own blades back on Innamorta. Shorya had taken up Niman, the sixth form of lightsaber combat, enjoying the full advantages of the Forms versatility and well roundedness to further develop her skills as a duelist, and leave room in her technique for the incorporation of Force attacks, in which she was getting exceedingly proficient in.

Dylan, much like Fernin, had also taken up Djem So, in an attempt to press his physical advantage against his opponents. Dylan’s sights and ambitions were really set on Juyo, the seventh form of lightsaber combat, for its focus on aggression, passion fueled offensive, unpredictability, and furious speed. But, seeing as Juyo was a very advanced form of lightsaber combat, with a recommended prerequisite of mastery over two or more other forms prior to studying it, Dylan had gone with his second choice, Djem So, for its dominating nature. If any form could help him achieve a similar exploitation of his fury that Juyo could, it was the domination driven Djem So.

Lightsaber combat was not the only area Dylan and his friends had made progress in however. They had also begun to develop their Force abilities. Tormax and Fernin preferred to develop their Force abilities in the direction of physical combat, calling upon the Force to augment their reflexes, senses, and physical capabilities more than telekinesis and more broad sensory applications of the Force. While Dylan put a lot of time and effort into using the Force to augment his physical combative prowess, he also focused on expanding his more overt force abilities as well, as did Shorya. While Shorya spent more time focusing on the precision of her force abilities than Dylan or the other two Innamortans, Dylan had developed a greater level of raw power with it, and no small level of control, though Shorya was admittedly better in this area.

As a Sith, Dylan’s strength in the Force came from his passion. He had seen that exemplified time and time again on Innamorta, and it was further reinforced by Darth Vanquil’s explanation of the Dark Side to him. Very frequently in his free time, Dylan would meditate on the Force. Unlike the Jedi, who meditated with calm and serenity, Dylan drew on his passion, calling upon his hatred for Arthur, the deceased King Barrus, and the other Sith apprentices at this academy. He summoned these feelings into his mind and channeled them, focusing them, and sharpening them. He knew that peace, for all of the relaxation and clarity it seemed to hold, was nothing next to the invigorating feeling of passion and emotion coursing through every fiber of his being. Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

At first, his rage had been a blunt instrument, with which he was little more than an animal. Now his rage had been sharpened and focused into a fine blade, and he was more in control of his rage now than he had ever been in his life, maintaining a command over it rather than letting it thrust him forward blindly and rabidly. As his control over his emotions and strength of his passion increased, Dylan had felt his body and mind grow stronger. Through passion I gain strength.

As his willpower and focus grew, he was able to channel his emotion more extensively and in a more controlled fashion, increasing his command of the Dark Side and using it to attain more and more power. Through strength I gain power.

As his command of the Dark Side of the Force had sharply risen over the course of the past few months, Dylan had begun to win more and more of the sparring matches, against increasingly skilled and powerful opponents. Dylan and his friends were becoming some of the top students at the Prime Academy, and Dylan relished in the envy of each of the other apprentices as he surpassed them, leaving them behind as he ascended through the ranks of the apprentices. Through power I gain victory.

The Keshiri who stood before him now was named Yavanok, one of the top students at the academy, and one whom Dylan had had a personal quarrel or two with in the past. At the beginning of his training, Dylan had challenged Yavanok to a duel. After observing a couple of his fights, one of which his opponent had literally danced circles around him and handily bested him, Dylan had mistaken the passive nature of his style for weakness. As it turns out, Yavanok was such a passive duelist because he specialized in Soresu, the third form of lightsaber combat, with a particular emphasis on defense. As it also turned out, the person who had casually bested him was Gingus, the top apprentice at the Prime Academy.

Needless to say, Dylan had sorely underestimated him in their first duel, so when Dylan had tried to batter through his defenses, Yavanok had expertly deflected or evaded each of his strikes before piercing Dylan’s own guard, and besting him. Dylan was absolutely furious, so he, out of fury, challenged Yavanok yet again, too soon after their first confrontation. In their second duel, Dylan was completely unbalanced by his rage, having not yet attained the focus to manage and control it yet, and thus, Yavanok took complete advantage of his defensive lapses, and made short work of him. Again, Dylan was frustrated by failure.

After their second duel, as much as he longed to tear Yavanok apart, Dylan restrained himself, and forced himself to resist his violent urges. For the next few months, every time Dylan had seen Yavanok, he had been forced to deal with the mocking laughter, and the taunting gaze of his pale violet eyes. The other students chimed in, claiming that Dylan’s only advantage was his unfair strength advantage, and against an opponent like Yavanok, he was weak and helpless. Despite however many apprentices he bested in the ring, his failure to best Yavanok hung over him, reminding the other apprentices of his vulnerability, even when that vulnerability had long since been compensated for. The failure of his duels with Yavanok was a chain that had bound him for too long! Now he was going to break it and break him! Through victory my chains are broken.

The Keshiri wavered his blade in front of him ever so slightly, his lips curling upward in a silent taunt. Dylan closed his eyes for a second, feeling his hatred for Yavanok, feeling his fury at the other apprentices who had mocked him, feeling the rage he had felt at his continued frustration. Dylan felt the Dark Side of the Force rush into his body, answering the call of his fury, ready to smite this enemy and free himself from his past failure. Dylan’s eyes snapped open, meeting Yavanok’s with a hateful glare. The force shall free me.

Dylan sprung into action, his blade dancing and sizzling through the air as he slashed and stabbed at Yavanok, the full power of his fury behind his every blow. Though the Keshiri was well built, fueled by the Dark Side as well, and taking every opportunity to deflect Dylan’s blade with minimum effort and energy, Dylan could see his arms shaking beneath every blow he levied against him. Dylan stepped forward, making sure Yavanok could see the fire in his eyes as he demonstrated his superiority. Catching Yavanok’s blade with his own as he stepped forward, Dylan pressed his full strength and body weight forward, fueling his muscles with the power of his own hatred.

Yavanok staggered back under the sudden force, regrouping almost two meters back. Dylan dashed forward, sweeping his blade in two arcs, both concluding in overhead slashes aimed at Yavanok’s head, both of which the Keshiri was barely able to evade in time, throwing himself to the side as he deflected Dylan’s blade at an angle.

As Dylan swept his blade to the right, Yavanok deflected the strike at a slight angle, letting its momentum carry it to the right as he stabbed his blade towards Dylan’s left flank. Rolling with the momentum, Dylan spun around, swinging his blade further as he did. When his blade came back around to meet Yavanok’s, Dylan deftly maneuvered it below the Kashiri’s blade, and flicked it upward, expertly knocking his blade off course, and causing it to pierce the air a foot above his shoulder.

Seizing the advantage, Dylan thrusted the tip of his blade at Yavanok’s right flank, but Yavanok pulled his blade back to his body quick enough to deflect it just in time. Calling upon his fury, Dylan slashed his blade towards Yavanok’s with all of his might. This time, when his blade met Yavanok’s, he didn’t keep it going in the same direction. Instead, he altered the course of his blade’s path through careful precision, redirecting his slash into an arc, bouncing off of Yavanok’s blade. As Dylan arced his blade in the other direction, he lashed out with lightning fast speed, slashing the Keshiri hard across the left shoulder.

Immediately, Yavanok cried out several profanities in the Keshiri language as he staggered back. Dylan did not let up. This apprentice had humiliated and mocked him for months. Now, he was going to suffer. Dylan stabbed his blade forward, meeting the edge of Yavanok’s blade with that of his own, and began to twirl his blade in tight circular motions. As he fueled his arms with the power of his hate, his blade began to pick up speed and power. Suddenly, Dylan jabbed his blade forwards and angled it downwards, slashing the Keshiri across the wrist with the entire length of the blade before whipping it upward to catch him in the armpit. Dylan brought his blade back again, slashing Yavanok’s arm with all of his might, and sending his weapon flying out of his grasp. Not missing a beat or showing mercy, Dylan slashed his opponent across the stomach, then swung his blade as hard as he could at Yavanok’s legs, sweeping them out right from under him, and knocking him to the ground crying out in anguish.

Dylan leapt forward onto his fallen opponent, flicking the tip of his blade into his throat, eliciting a scream of agony from the Keshiri. Dylan met Yavanok’s frightened eyes with the hateful glare of his own, and curled his own lips upward in a taunt, letting the other apprentice know that he had just been beaten. The entire sparring match had lasted only twenty five seconds.

“Congratulations Dylan!” Darth Vashek, dueling instructor of the prime academy said. “Your skills have improved tremendously. That was in fact one of the best displays of Djem So I have ever seen from an apprentice in all my years of teaching!”

Dylan turned to face his friends as he deactivated his training lightsaber, seeing their reinforcing smiles, sharing the pleasure of his most recent victory. Dylan smiled back at them triumphantly, staring back into the twinkles of Shorya’s deep brown eyes as he did so.

Suddenly, Dylan felt a sense of alarm in the back of his mind. He spun around just in time to see Yavanok, covered in burn marks, leap up to his feet and charge at him with a glass dagger known as a shikkar in each of his hands. Dylan suddenly realized that this apprentice was trying to kill him! The realization sent hatred and fury surging through the core of his very being.

Dylan furiously swept one hand to the side, tearing the glass daggers from his hands and sending them flying into the wall on the other end of the room, much to the astonished cries of the other Apprentices. Immediately, Dylan thrust out his other hand, calling upon his blinding rage to unleash a blast of force energy at Yavanok’s legs. Though Yavanok had put every bit of effort he had behind raising a force barrier, it was not enough. Dylan’s telekinetic blast of energy tore through the other apprentice’s barrier as if it had never existed to begin with, ripping his legs out from underneath him.

As Yavanok fell forward towards him, Dylan thrust out his right knee. He heard a sickening crunch as his knee the Keshiri in the rib cage, shattering ribs beneath its force, and snapping the Yavanok’s body back as his knee came up to catch him under the chin. Dylan flicked one of his hands forward, feeling the power of the Dark Side surge through him as he hurled the Keshiri across the room like a purple ragdoll.

Dylan and the other apprentices stared on in astonishment as Yavanok crumpled into an unconscious heap on the other side of the room. His skin was marked by several severe burns from the training lightsabers, and a large pool of blood was welling up on his chest, flowing from the area in which Dylan’s knee struck him. It now looked like somebody had torn his side open with a jackhammer. His head was split open by the force with which it had struck the wall behind him, a puddle of blood formed beneath his head. Dylan could sense the other apprentice’s life force wavering as he barely clung to life.

As Darth Vashnek rushed over to Yavanok, Dylan turned to face the other apprentices. They all stared back, a look of awe on their faces. But one Apprentice in particular caught Dylan’s attention. He was an Apprentice with pallid skin and flame orange hair; Gingus. He stared at Dylan with interest, observing him, sizing him up. Dylan stared back. He knew he was not powerful enough to challenge Gingus yet, but when he finally was, Gingus would be to him exactly what Yavanok was. Nothing.