Private A Touch of Beskar | Combat Arms

[Ivalyn Yvarro]

Xiandara, Salteract

Adelle Bastiel | Aselia Verd​

Ivalyn had long sought after martial training. She stood in her black martial gear waiting for her trainers. Combat tested warriors, victorious ones at that. Adelle Bastiel and Aselia Verd, she awaited them there at a stone training terrace overlooking the Wadi Zahrat, the river that cut through Xiandara below. The air was warm, carrying the sound of water and distant life. Guards were present of course, but they were distant. The space had been deliberately cleared.

There were many districts that relied on the Zahrat. She took in a deep breath and centered herself. Ivalyn had chosen to train at the heart of Salteract. The Pasha would not be hidden away, she wanted to prepare in full view of what she was to protect. Let the Mandalorian brutality be on full display, later when the training escalated then and only then it would move. Move to a more enclosed courtyard, likely in the more administrative or government district.

Later it would progress to an open space out in the wilds of Salteract to give the Mandalorians more space to operate. Today was merely the start of a larger journey. No matter how long the journey took, Ivalyn wanted to make one thing clear. She was not becoming Mandalorian, she was learning from them. Integrating their strength into her identity. All without losing herself, whatever would come from this Ivalyn knew it would be to keep the Commonwealth safe and secure, even if she'd have to ensure by her own hands.

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Xiandara, Salteract
Tags: Ivalyn Yvarro | Aselia Verd

Despite the comfortable quiet that had settled in the shuttle for a while, Adelle couldn’t sit still. If she wasn’t bouncing her knee, she cracked her knuckles. If she wasn’t stretching her neck, she tapped her foot. Somewhere on this side of the river, Grand Vizier Ivalyn Yvarro waited for them.

The contract had been expected. An official document sent to her new communication lines as envoy, fulfilling a rather flirtatiously delivered request from a couple months ago, had not surprised her in the slightest. What did surprise her was the additional instructor requested and their identity: Aselia Verd.

Even with Aselia’s presence, Adelle still worried. Every time she remembered the charity ball on Naboo, she felt her body burn with embarassment at how easily Yvarro had played her, how quickly she had exploited Adelle’s imbalance, and how good the attention felt at the time. And thanks to her genetics, that was a memnis and she’d never be rid of it.

Complicating things further had been Yvarro’s unexpected arrival on Yaga Minor, just after the battle had been officially called by Mandalorian command. Aselia had been more direct than usual, brusque even, and Adelle knew she could be diplomatic, had seen it in the holocall with the Imperial Confederation. And yet she’d been on battlefields with less tension than that officer’s room.

She had no idea what to expect from this meeting.

The shuttle began its descent. Adelle flexed her right hand then cracked the knuckles of her left and stood. The thick training tunic and trousers shifted over her compression clothes underneath as she did, the once stiff fabric now flexible from hundreds of hours of training. Adelle glanced over at Aselia and tried to bury the nervous energy under humor.

“Try not to break any bones,” she said, unable to muster even a forced grin. “Those are a pain to heal.”

She rocked slightly as the ship made contact with a landing pad and settled onto the landing gear. Hydraulics hissed as the ramp descended. Adelle took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, settling herself into stillness. Things would go how they would go. Adelle walked down the ramp into the golden sun.

The Grand Vizier stood in the center of an open stone terrace. One low wall guarded the edge closest to the river but Adelle noted there was nothing to block the view of anyone happening by. A public display. To curb their teaching methods or to inspire herself? The smooth flagstones caught her eye. There was no training mat, no cushion to protect the head or joints should they hit hard.

“Adding to my last statement,” Adelle said quietly to Aselia as they walked the short distance from the landing pad. “No head injuries. Those are worse.”

They reached the edge of the terrace and Adelle came to a stop, standing at CorSec’s parade rest.

“Grand Vizier,” she said. “I trust we haven’t kept you waiting long.”