Private Calm the Storm

[Daxin Veyr]

Del Mirah

The training halls of the Academy were quieter than he expected.

There was the usual hum of practice sabers and the low murmur of instruction. It lacked the chaos of the outside world. It helped him find some calm.

Daxin stood just inside the threshold for a moment, taking it in. He exhaled slowly and stepped forward.

Pairs of Padawans circled one another. Some were cautious, some were overeager. Instructors drifted between them like quiet sentinels, correcting stances with a word or a gesture. It was all very precise.

Daxin had gained his scars losing all control in a duel. His control was still far from perfect, but he wasn't going to learn without trying again.

This was the first time in six months he had stepped into this place.

Daxin removed his outer robe and sat down. He laid his lightsaber across his lap and tuned it down to a safe setting.

 

[Del Mirah]

Tags: Daxin Veyr

Del sat on the perimeter bench, arms wrapped tightly around her middle. While her mind held a perfect library of every lightsaber form and its corresponding counter, her stomach wasn't reading the same data. The theory was easy. The application felt like trying to solve an equation while someone swung a kinetic mallet at her head.

She watched the Zeltron settle nearby. He was large, scarred, and looked like he had seen more of the galaxy than she ever cared to. Del placed her hilt on her lap, mirroring his movements by twisting the dial to the training setting. The idea of stepping into the center of the floor made her throat go dry. If she kept him talking, maybe the instructors would overlook her for another few minutes.

"What is your favorite form?" Del blurted out.

She winced at her own bluntness but didn't take it back. She needed the distraction. "They tell me I should stick to Shii-Cho because it's foundational, but I quite like the practical applications of Soresu. It's much more logical for defense."

 

[Daxin Veyr]

Del Mirah

Daxin had already clocked her before she spoke.

Not just where she was sitting, but how. The way her arms were drawn in, the tension held too tightly through her shoulders. Anticipation, maybe. Or perhapsnsomething closer to reluctance.

He tried not to reach out with the Force to find out.

Her question was blurted out.

There was the faintest shift at the corner of his mouth, not quite a smile, but close enough to suggest he’d noticed more than he let on.

"Straight to it, then," he said, voice even, carrying easily without drawing attention from the rest of the hall.

For a moment, he didn’t answer, his gaze lingering just long enough to make it unclear whether he was considering the question… or her.

"I've mostly been studying Niman," he said at last.

"I've done a little Soresu," he continued, quieter now, more conversational. "If your goal is to last and control space."

"You know I don't bite," he said, finally addressing her nerves. "Not unless people ask."

Even though he had not been raised by zeltrons, he still was one.

"Do you want to go through some forms?" he asked. "Seven points maneuvers?"

There was an endless catalogue of form patterns to be carried out. The solo kata could be studied to death, but the paired forms meant going through set routines against one another.

Daxin stood up. Seeing someone else on edge - oddly - made him feel much more at ease. Going through patterns felt a safe place to start.

 

[Del Mirah]

Tags: Daxin Veyr

Del waited as the silence stretched, her fingers tapping a nervous rhythm against the cold metal of her lightsaber hilt.

She nearly broke the quiet herself before he finally mentioned Niman. It was an unexpected choice for someone of his stature. "I wouldn't have pegged you for Niman," she admitted, tilting her head. "You look more like a Shien practitioner." She meant it as a compliment. Shien was aggressive and demanding, and his rugged appearance suggested he was well-acquainted with that kind of intensity.

His comment about not biting made her eyes flicker toward his scars. They told a much grittier story than his calm voice let on.

When he offered to run through the seven points maneuvers, the tension in her chest eased. It was a reprieve from being matched with a stranger by the creche Masters. "Can we?" she asked, the relief evident in her voice.

She stood quickly and moved toward the nearest sparring circle. Once on the mat, Del fell into a Soresu opening stance, adjusting her feet and the angle of her blade hand to match the exact specifications she had memorized from her data files. She fussed over the alignment of her elbow until it was perfect.

"I'm Del," she said, looking up from her meticulous posing. "What's your name?"

 

[Daxin Veyr]

Del Mirah

Daxin watched the way her fingers tapped against the hilt. It wasn't impatience, it was nerves.

He didn’t comment on it.

Her reaction to Niman drew the faintest shift in his expression, something amused

"So now I'm interested...why do you think I'd use Shien?"

There was a brief glance down at himself, then back to her.

"It's what I started on and I've been taking things slow," he admitted.

Daxin pushed himself up to his feet.

He followed her onto the mat at an unhurried pace, rolling his shoulders once as he stepped into the circle. The training blade came to life with a low hum, held loosely at his side rather than raised.

Daxin didn’t take a stance straight away. He watched her instead.

The precision was immediate. Feet placed exactly. Elbow adjusted. Blade angle corrected down to the smallest detail. It was all… perfectly correct.

"Daxin."

His grip shifted, bringing the blade up at last, though his posture stayed relaxed. Not careless. Just… unforced.

"Seven-step set sparring pattern number two is fine," he said. "We’ll keep it slow."

Then, just a touch quieter: "You don’t need to get it perfect. You can loosen up a little."

Because even though he hadn't grown up on Zeltros he couldn't give advice without a particular kind of smile.

"Ready?"

He brought his blade up. The set sparring was a number of fixed moves that went back and forth. There were a hundred patterns that drew in movement from different forms with anything from two to twelve steps.

"You can start."

 

[Del Mirah]

Tags: Daxin Veyr

Del looked away from his smile, focusing instead on the space between them. She knew Zeltrons were naturally charismatic, but she wasn't about to let a charming grin distract her from the technical work.

She tried to follow his advice and loosen her grip, though her muscles remained stubbornly stiff. "Ready, Daxin," she said, initiating the first move of the second pattern. The familiar sequence gave her mind something to latch onto, but she still felt too focused on her own limbs.

She needed to talk to stay out of her own head. "Shien is about power and counterstrikes," she said, her voice regaining its usual authoritative clip as she moved through the steps. "You're tall and muscular. Plus, those scars suggest a history of recklessness or extreme aggression. It makes sense to assume you'd prefer a form that prioritizes pressure."

She transitioned into the next block, her movements crisp and calculated. "Most people are easy to read. You'd never expect me to be proficient in an aggressive form, for instance."

Mid-rotation, Del paused briefly to point her blade toward his lead foot. "Your weight is slightly too far back for a standard Niman transition. You'll lose balance if I increase the pace," she noted, unable to help herself from correcting a flaw she'd seen a thousand times on a screen.

She resumed the pattern, stepping in sync with him. "Where are you from, anyway? I'm from At Attin, if you've heard of it. It's quite orderly there."

 

[Daxin Veyr]

Del Mirah

Daxin watched her settle back into the form. The stiffness was still there. It wasn't in the structure. That part was clean and precise.

He moved with her as she initiated, matching the pattern without rushing it. His blade met hers at the correct points, each contact controlled, measured. He didn’t push her pace.

"Something like that," he replied to her comment on scars. Her analysis made him form a quizzical expression, even as he continued.

She brought them to a halt and he had to adjust his leading foot. The sequence came to an end with the tip of his blade pointed towards her chest.

It was common in the Jedi patterns for the one who struck first to 'lose'. Daxin doubted fights went that way in real life.

He took a moment to reset and they started the pattern with him as the aggressor.

"Do you always just say what comes to mind?" he asked, deflecting her question.

 

[Del Mirah]

Tags: Daxin Veyr

Del frowned as the sequence ended with his lightsaber pointed at her chest. Even though it was a routine drill, the sight of the blade tip annoyed her. She didn't like losing, even in theory. She knocked his blade away with a sharp, frustrated flick before resetting her stance. As Daxin took the lead as the aggressor, she focused on her footwork, meeting his strikes with the measured resistance of Soresu.

"Does that bother you?" she asked in response to his question about her bluntness. She caught his first strike and stepped laterally. "I prefer straightforward honesty. Efficiency in communication saves time. Most people here don't seem to agree. I've found it difficult to connect with the other Padawans. They usually claim to be put off by my honesty, though I suspect it's more about being intellectually intimidated."

Del leaned into a parry, using the momentum to shove back and put Daxin on his heels. Her words started to tumble out faster as the physical rhythm of the duel took hold. "You would rather someone tell you the truth, wouldn't you? It's much more practical than social posturing."

She didn't wait for him to agree before pivoting into the next movement. "For instance, I am genuinely curious how you got those scars. Is there a logical explanation, or was it just a lack of situational awareness?"

 

[Daxin Veyr]

Del Mirah

The knock against his blade was sharper than the drill called for. Not enough to break form.

"Doesn’t bother me," he said.

His blade came in from the right, angled cleanly toward her guard. He watched her feet more than her weapon as she stepped laterally.

Her explanation came out in a steady stream. He listened, or at least appeared to. His responses came between movements, never interrupting the rhythm.

"It’s efficient," he added. "Just not always accurate."

"People don’t like being reduced to a problem to solve," he said.

A light contact. A shift. He let her push him back a step when she leaned into the parry. His footing adjusted easily, giving ground without losing balance.

Then she asked about his scars.

"Who says a lack of situation is not a logical explanation?" he laughed, increasing the tempo of the exchange of blades.

 

[Del Mirah]

Tags: Daxin Veyr

Del processed his vague answer with a growing list of possibilities. Carelessness was a logical failure, but his movements on the mat suggested anything but a lack of skill. She reigned in her curiosity, realizing she might be overstepping. Her internal lecture kicked in. Situational awareness, Del.

By the time she refocused on the physical space, Daxin had increased the tempo, forcing her into a deep defensive retreat.

His strength was formidable. If they were dueling at full speed, she knew her rigid adherence to form wouldn't save her from being overwhelmed. She finally found her footing and executed a parry that met her own high standards for precision. The contact vibrated up her arms, a reminder of the physical gap between them.

"You're not much of a talker, are you, Daxin?" Del noted. She transitioned back into a neutral guard, her eyes tracking his blade.

She wasn't ready to let the silence return. "Will you at least tell me where you are from? I mentioned I am from At Attin. It is generally polite to reciprocate."

 

[Daxin Veyr]

Daxin didn’t answer her straight away. He had always thought that most questions weren’t really about the answer. They were about what you gave away in the way you replied.

He let the rhythm of the exchange continue, meeting her guard with measured pressure rather than force. When she adjusted, he adjusted with her, shifting his weight just enough to keep her working without overwhelming her completely.

Daxin dropped the tip of his blade to signal the need for a break before stepping back and deactivating his saber.

"I didn’t have a place like that. I moved around a lot."

There was a slight shift at the corner of his mouth, it was almost a smile again.

"You’ll have to decide if that’s polite enough. What's At Attin like?"

 

[Del Mirah]

Tags: Daxin Veyr

Del frowned and deactivated her own saber. She wasn't tired, but she was annoyed by his refusal to provide a substantial answer. Every attempt to categorize him or find common ground was met with a vague redirection. She followed him back toward the benches and took her seat, her mind racing to analyze why her conversational efficiency was failing so miserably.

When he asked about her home, Del brightened, her posture straightening with a surge of genuine enthusiasm. "It is quite literally the best place in the galaxy," she said, her voice losing some of analytical edge. "At Attin is a marvel of urban planning. Everything is structured, predictable, and perfectly safe. I have my entire family there, and my friends."

She spent a moment describing the meticulously kept parks, the quiet residential blocks, and the comfort of a community where everyone had a clear role to play. It was a stark contrast to the scarred, wandering life Daxin hinted at. "It was a wonderful place to grow up," she concluded, her expression softening before she turned her focused gaze back to him. "Do you truly not have a place like that? Nowhere that feels like a fixed point in your history?"

 

[Daxin Veyr]

Del Mirah

"Well, not like that," Daxin replied. "I can't recall anywhere I stayed being a marvel of urban planning. Which is funny, when you think about how important that was to me at the time. Personally."

The Zeltron sighed. She was trying to be nice and he was being an ass. The natural telepath in him could feel this from her. Daxin didn't have much control over his Zeltron side, but he was fairly certain that this was real thoughtfulness from her. Not the usual mix of pheromones that made him more likeable and attractive that he gave off.

"And no, I didn't have anywhere like that at all. But I'm glad you did," he said. "Does this place feel fixed?" he asked himself out loud.

"I don't know," he admitted.

"So how did you end up here?"

 

[Del Mirah]

Tags: Daxin Veyr

Del looked at the floor. She suspected he was poking fun at her description, which stung more than she cared to admit. It was a common reaction when she spoke passionately about her home, yet she never understood why people asked questions if they didn't actually value the answer. She wondered briefly why she even cared about the opinion of a scarred Zeltron she had just met, but his admission that he was glad she had such a place softened her irritation. Maybe he wasn't being dismissive. Perhaps he just lacked the capacity for such open dialogue.

She shifted on the bench, picking at a loose thread on her tunic. "It was either this or the University of At Attin," she said, finally looking up. "I want to help people and see the galaxy. I can always go back home, but this opportunity won't wait forever. It is the only logical path if I want to explore my own limits." To Del, growth was a series of calculated risks, and staying in a perfect suburb, while comfortable, offered no new data on her potential.

She studied his face, trying to gauge if he was actually listening this time. "Should I even ask how you ended up here?" she prompted, her voice regaining a bit of its characteristic edge. "Or are you going to give me another non-answer runaround?"

 

[Daxin Veyr]

Daxin leaned back on the bench, elbows resting on his knees. The training hall’s hum had faded into background noise; most of the other pairs had moved on or were wrapping up. He could feel the shift in her, the irritation prickling like static, undercut by that persistent, almost clinical curiosity.

It pressed against his own walls. Not overwhelming, but enough to make his scars itch faintly.

He let out a low breath, the corner of his mouth tugging into that familiar, not-quite-apologetic smirk.

"Fair enough. You’ve been straight with me. Guess I owe you a little more than I moved around."

His brown eyes met hers for a moment longer than necessary.

"Zeltros born, but I don’t remember it. Got passed around when I was young. I spent three months on a freighter. Two years being raised on Coruscant. A couple on Eriadu. I didn't really know what it was to be Zeltron."

Daxin thought he did know now, but he did not.

"Emotions from other people hit me hard. Anger, fear… they felt like mine. I lashed out. A lot."

He shrugged one shoulder,.

"Jedi found me late. Been working on my control," he said before letting out a short, dry laugh.

"Still working on that. The scars are a souvenir from the last time I lost it in a sparring ring."

Daxin’s gaze flicked to her lightsaber, then back up. The Zeltron in him wanted to lean in, to ease the tension with a joke or a flirt, but he kept it reined. Barely.

" But this place…" He gestured vaguely at the hall." It’s the closest thing I’ve got to steady."

He stood slowly, offering her a hand up if she wanted it. The smirk deepened just a touch.

"Your turn to correct my footwork again, or you wanna keep digging? I can take it."

 

[Del Mirah]

Tags: Daxin Veyr

Del took his hand and stood up, feeling the effortless strength behind his pull. Her expression shifted to one of pure bewilderment as her internal filter failed. "I have been sparring with you without knowing you could be a liability?" she asked. Fear and anxiety bloomed in her chest, and she instinctively took a few steps back. She didn't know this man, and she certainly had no interest in being the target of a sudden loss of control.

She stopped herself, realizing the distance was likely more insulting than protective. He had been perfectly calm and patient with her during their first set. She didn't want to ruin the progress he was making by opening up. "I'm sorry," she admitted, her voice softer. "I didn't mean to say that out loud." A connection with a peer, even one as unpredictable as Daxin, would be a welcome change from her usual isolation.

Del nodded for him to resume, but she opted for a solo kata side-by-side rather than a direct spar. She watched his footwork closely as they moved in sync. "If you need somewhere to go on Life Day, At Attin is a welcoming place," she suggested. The invitation surprised even her. She wasn't sure why she was trying so hard to make him feel included, but she quickly masked the moment by tapping her boot against his. "Narrow your stance, you're overextending again."

She needed to pivot the conversation before things got too sentimental. "What do you mean by losing control?" she asked, her clinical curiosity winning out over her caution. "Is it a failure of technique, or is it purely a physiological reaction to the emotional feedback you mentioned?"

 

[Daxin Veyr]

Del Mirah

Daxin felt the spike in her emotions hit him like a cold splash. It was fear and anxiety, sharp and sudden. His hand stayed steady as she took it and stood, but he noticed the quick steps backward she took right after. The

Zeltron in him wanted to smooth it over with a easy smile or a joke. Instead he kept still and let her work through it.

When she apologized and came back closer his shoulders relaxed a fraction. He gave a small nod, accepting it without making it a big deal.

"Its alright," he said quietly. "I get it."

He moved into the solo kata beside her, matching her rhythm as best he could. The side by side felt safer for both of them right now. Her boot tapped his and he adjusted his stance again, narrowing it like she said.

The Life Day invitation caught him off guard. He glanced sideways at her while they flowed through the next sequence. Someone actually offering him a place to go? That was new. Warmth flickered in his chest, but he pushed it down before it could show too much.

"The emotions come in hard. Not just mine. Everyone elses too. Anger, panic, pain...

He glanced briefly at Del, eyes sliding down and back up again.

"... Everything else. They stack up fast and it feels like they are mine. My technique falls apart when that happens. I get sloppy. Reactive. Last time it was bad enough that I hurt someone in the ring. Scars are from that."

He kept his eyes forward on the kata, but his tone softened.

"Meditation, focus exercises, all that helps. I'm still learning where the line is between feeling everything and drowning in it. That make sense? Still happy being near me?"

After a few more steps he risked another glance at her. "At Attin sounds better than whatever half empty cafeteria I was going to end up in. Thanks for the offer. Really."

 

[Del Mirah]

Tags: Daxin Veyr

Del considered his explanation with a thoughtful hum. The mechanics of his struggle were fascinating, if a bit messy. "The solution is quite logical, then," she declared, her voice regaining its usual confidence. "I simply have to remain poised and composed while we spar. If I provide a stable, calm emotional baseline, you won't have to worry about drowning in external feedback. It's excellent practice for real conflict scenarios where maintaining focus is a requirement."

She felt a brief, uncharacteristic flicker of sympathy. Del couldn't imagine being at the mercy of other people's feelings, she spent most of her time trying to tune out everything that wasn't data or duty. To her, bringing emotion into a critical situation was an unnecessary distraction that clouded judgment. While she couldn't force him to adopt her analytical galactic view, she certainly had the resources to help him manage his.

"We can work on specific techniques together," she offered, propping his elbow up as they moved through the next segment of the kata. "I have read copious amounts of literature on breathing exercises and combat-focused mindfulness. Control is the primary component of success for the Jedi, after all. I can compile a curated list of modules for you to review before our next session."

As they reached a transition point in the movements, she gave him a sharp, sideways look. "My family makes enough food to feed an entire sector, so there is plenty of room for you. It will be much more efficient than eating in an empty cafeteria. However, there is a catch. You will owe me regular sparring sessions. If I am to make Knight, I need to improve my performance against much larger, physically imposing opponents. This arrangement is mutually beneficial."

 

[Daxin Veyr]

Daxin kept moving through the kata beside her, listening as she laid out her logical fix. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Her confidence was almost cute in how neatly she tried to solve him like a puzzle. She wasn't entirely wide of the mark in her solution either.

He felt the flicker of sympathy from her too, but he did not linger on it.

When they reached the next transition he slowed to a stop and turned to face her fully.

"I appreciate the offer. And yeah, I will take you up on Life Day. Sounds a lot better than staring at cafeteria walls. Deal on the sparring sessions too."

He rolled his shoulders once, loosening up. His brown eyes met hers with a spark of challenge. "But if we are going to do this, we should do it right. Kata is good for form. It keeps things clean and controlled. Real sparring is different. Messier. You have to read the other person, adapt when the pattern breaks, and stay steady when emotions spike. That is where I usually slip."

Daxin took a step back and gave a small nod toward the open space.

"First free lesson," he said.

"The fourth step of that pattern. Go through that towards me."

As she went through the motion his saber cut inside hers, ending up pointing at her throat.

"No one can use that in sparring. Cut the flourish out of it, go direct, like this."

Daxin repeated the move but made it much more direct.

"We don't get points for keeping form to the books if we ever have to fight for real," he reasoned. "I'll try and think of the other examples but you'll work them out for yourself as we spar."

 

[Del Mirah]

Tags: Daxin Veyr

Blade contact echoed through the hall as Del tapped his saber away, her brow furrowed in deep thought. The suggestion that established texts were intentionally inefficient was a difficult concept to reconcile. Mimicking his direct movement, she stripped away the unnecessary flourish, yet her movements felt uncomfortably naked without the traditional polish. "This is illogical," she argued, resetting her feet. "If the manual dictates a specific sequence, why would the Council authorize an inferior method for instruction? It's as if they're providing a flawed blueprint and expecting us to build a masterpiece."

Executing the modified fourth step, Del watched her blade find its mark with irritating effectiveness. The direct line of attack bypassed Daxin's guard far more quickly than the textbook version ever had. A frustrated groan escaped her as the physical evidence dismantled her own argument. She hated when the data contradicted the theory, especially when the theory came from centuries of Jedi tradition. "It's still a massive oversight," she muttered, though she didn't revert to the flourish.

The two began cycling through the steps again, this time as a fluid exchange. Having a partner who offered practical, unpolished feedback felt like a necessary, if jarring, addition to her training regimen. She leaned into a parry, her mind already shifting back to the psychological mechanics of their arrangement. "What exactly does the sensation of slipping feel like?" she asked, her eyes searching his for a concrete description. "Is it a gradual loss of focus or a sudden system failure?"

Frustration at her own technical errors felt like a manageable variable, but Daxin's description sounded far more volatile. If she could map the progression of his emotional overload, she could develop a predictive model to intervene before he reached a breaking point. "If I can identify the early markers of your instability, I can adjust my own output to compensate," she explained, her voice steady as their blades hummed in the quiet air. "Insight into your internal state is the only way to ensure this partnership remains efficient."