Private Cave Sparing, What an Idea

[Odom Orzmod]

Odom shifted her position, the sound of her boots softly crunching on the gritty cave floor. This cavern, a jagged opening in an unnamed mountain, was damp and carried the scent of long-forgotten rain. While many Jedi might have embraced this solitude to deepen their connection with the living Force, Odom chose to remain grounded in the physical realm.

Her Mikkian sensory tendrils extended fully, quivering as they detected the unseen air currents weaving through the dark passages. She inspected her utility belt for the third time, not from anxiety but from a disciplined instinct for preparedness. To her, the true strength of a Jedi lay not in vague intuitions but in a well-equipped kit and a focused mind.

As she moved through the clearing, her gaze followed the interplay of dim light on the damp walls. Each shadow represented a possible threat, and every slick patch of moss was a tactical risk to be carefully considered. Drawing her lightsaber from her belt, she refrained from igniting it just yet. Instead, she familiarized herself with its weight, executing a series of fundamental parries.

Her movements were tight and fierce, emphasizing efficiency over flair; the grandiose techniques of other Jedi would not help her here. A straightforward deflection paired with a well-timed push could easily neutralize any threat. In a galaxy that demanded swift action, speed and precision reigned supreme, leaving no room for hesitation.

A sudden shift indicated someone was at the tunnel's entrance.

Odom's tendrils quivered, recognizing the familiar, steady rhythm of her Master Hastam Sii approaching long before his figure emerged from the dim light. She paused her training and turned to face the entrance, forgoing any bow or meditative greeting. Instead, she remained poised, awaiting the signal to commence, her attention fully anchored on the blade in her hand and the stone beneath her feet.

 

[Hastam Sii]

Hastam had not known his apprentice Odom Orzmod for long, yet they had forged a strong bond rooted in mutual trust.

Both were aware of the seductive pull of the Dark Side, which could tempt even the most steadfast members of their vast Order. They shared an unspoken understanding that if either were to succumb to that darkness, the other would not hesitate to end their life, prioritizing the safety of the galaxy's vulnerable citizens above each other.

Such a perspective contradicted the idea of redemption, which suggested that the Jedi could persuade their fallen counterparts to return to the Light Side if they expressed their remorse strongly enough. While the Kel Dor acknowledged this belief, they viewed it as one-dimensional, noting that the Sith do not share such sentiments in his experience.

"You have progressed very far, Knight Orzmod." Hastam moved from the entrance of the cavern to its shadowy depths following the subtle shift in the air current as her lightsaber sliced in precise movements.

He could see the hesitation in her eyes since the collapse of the Galactic Alliance and needed proper guidance to steady herself. Many masters might turn to deep philosophical discussions to address such unresolved trauma, but he believed it was more beneficial for her to engage in combat training.

This approach redirected her depression from the mind to physical activity, allowing her to release negative energy and alleviate mental burdens in a more productive way than mere discussion. "You may begin, my apprentice." He offered a standard bow to signal the start of the session, his simple unadorned blue lightsaber moving into Form III.

 

[Odom Orzmod]

Odom sensed the rising tension in her body, despite the sparring session being intended as a friendly exchange between Master and Apprentice. She resisted the urge to adopt the traditional view that practice meant it was merely a game; the presence of real blades instead of training weapons made this duel feel all too serious.

She gripped her hilt tightly, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against the ignition button. A green blade sprang to life, its hissing glow casting a long shadow on the cavern wall. Taking a half-step forward, she lowered her center of mass, recognizing that Hastam Sii had adopted the defense form of Soresu.

Hesitation was evident on her face as she realized he would only shift his blade when absolutely necessary, conserving his energy while she wore herself out against his steadfast defense. "As you wish, Master," she replied, her voice resonating in the cavern as she advanced, opting for quick, precise strikes rather than a sweeping attack.

A flurry of rapid jabs targeted his shoulders and hips, each clash of her green blade against his blue igniting the cave in flashes of turquoise light. Hastam's defense was impeccable; his saber danced in small, calculated circles, expertly deflecting her blows with the outer edge of his weapon.

 

[Hastam Sii]

Hastam stood his ground, feet firmly planted on the slick moss beneath him.

While many Jedi Masters would fixate solely on their opponent's blade to predict the next strike, Hastam opted for a more pragmatic approach. He focused on the subtle movements of Odom Orzmod arm and the tension in her shoulder, recognizing that a lightsaber was an extension of the body; the arm's motion preceded the weapon's.

He used such observation to anticipate her rapid jabs just moments before they came. Noticing the tightening of her forearm muscles before her blade swept toward his hip, he deftly tilted his unadorned blue saber in a precise arc, deflecting the blow with minimal effort.

This method proved far more reliable than relying on a vague sense of the Force during a high-stakes duel, which could be clouded by Odom's unresolved trauma or his own concerns for her.

"You are telegraphing your strikes through your shoulders, Odom" Hastam observed Odom's technique with a calm demeanor, his voice steady despite the intensity of her attack. He deftly allowed her rapid jabs to slip past his outer guard, his blue blade executing a precise half-circle to redirect her strikes away from his body.

This shift in approach aimed to remind her that their encounter was a lesson, not a life-threatening battle, helping to alleviate the anxiety that had surfaced when she activated her deadly weapon. "The weapon only goes where the arm directs it. Relax your tension, and do not let your desperation to break my guard dictate the movement of your body." He advised her to remember that the weapon follows the arm's lead, urging her to relax and not let her eagerness to penetrate his defense dictate her movements.

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[Odom Orzmod]

"As you say master." Odom inhaled sharply, releasing the tension in her shoulders as she relaxed her grip on the lightsaber hilt, letting its weight settle comfortably in her hand. She reminded herself that the weapon should flow with her movements, striving to achieve the fluidity that Hastam Sii expected of her.

As she moved into a new sequence, her motions became deliberately slower and more rhythmic, testing his defenses with a calculated diagonal cut while keeping her forearm flexible and her intentions concealed.

For a brief moment, the cave resonated with a harmonious hum as their blades danced around each other without clashing, embodying the essence of flow she aimed to master, free from the usual urgency that drove her.

Yet, when Hastam's blue blade intercepted hers with effortless precision, a familiar skepticism stirred within her. This patient exchange felt alarmingly close to the hesitation she despised, and her Mikkian tendrils sensed the stalemate, urging her to act before time slipped away.

Instinctively, she reverted to her old habits. Instead of disengaging to find a more elegant angle, Odom planted her feet firmly in the ground and leaned into the sparks, allowing her shoulders to tense as she abandoned the notion of relaxation for raw, grounded power. She refused to wait for the Soresu master to falter; instead, she aimed to disrupt the rhythm entirely.

 

[Hastam Sii]

Hastam felt the sudden shift in the vibration of their locked blades, the harmonious hum of the cave sharpening into a jagged, aggressive hiss as Odom Orzmod weight shifted. He watched the relaxation he had coached evaporate in an instant, replaced by a rigid, grounding force that traveled from her tensed shoulders down to the soles of her feet.

He did not fight her strength with his own. Instead, he adjusted the angle of his hilt, letting the raw, grounded power of her shove slide across the outer edge of his blue blade. He pivoted slightly, using her momentum to maintain a safe distance rather than allowing the stalemate to dictate his position.

"You are trying to force a conclusion, Odom," Hastam observed, his voice remaining a calm anchor in the damp air of the cavern. He noted the way her Mikkian tendrils quivered, sensing her mounting impatience with the Soresu-driven stalemate. "You view the lack of a decisive blow as a failure, yet in your haste to disrupt my form, you have invited the very rigidity that will betray you."

He allowed his blade to drop into a neutral, low guard, inviting her to see the openings her tension had created. To him, the desperation to end a duel quickly was a psychological trap, one that turned a Jedi's greatest asset their focus into a liability. "Free your mind from the urge to end this duel," he advised, his tone shifting from instructor to a more somber, protective mentor.

"That desperation creates a tunnel through which you cannot see the larger battlefield. In a duel with a Sith Lord, they will not only see that urgency; they will feed on it. They will wait for that single, tensed mistake that costs you your life." He took a slow, deliberate step back, resetting his center on the slick moss. He wanted her to understand that the hesitation, she despised was, in reality, the patience required to survive.

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