Nimir-ra to Iella, Jedi Shadow
The Alema moved through space, it rarely stayed in one place now. Ahch-To was important and the duties of a jedi shadow were to be there but there was upheaval. The orders more divided in some cases then ever before and the jedi were needed. Not as shadows they didn't have the councilor of first knowledges orders nor all of the information. The ship was a place where he trained and focused. The central chamber resonating with the force as the jedi master stood in the central chamber. He stood like a statue shaped from living stone. The emergency lighting glinted off the sweat-sheened muscles of his bare chest and the tight sash that covered his formless eyes. He was in his absolute prime; every corded fiber of his arms, the thick slabs of his chest, and the defined ridges of his abdomen were not for show, but a testament to a life of relentless discipline. He stood not with defiance, but with an unnerving stillness, his hands loose at his sides. His broad shoulders were squared as his breathing was shallow, focused and barely there. Turning with minimal intake the smallest into a breath that would last hours.
This was not mere exercise; it was the flow of the force a moving meditation designed to ensure the force coursed unimpeded through his formidable physique. The initial stillness broke with a deep, resonating intake of breath, slow and silent through his nose. His chest expanded, drawing the air deep into his lungs. As he began the slow, measured exhalation, he sank immediately into a deep, wide stance, dropping his center of gravity. His knees tracked over his toes, and the cords of his thighs tightened visibly under the strain. Simultaneously, he initiated the movement of the force in his body. His hands, previously loose, began to move in a broad, sweeping arc. As he exhaled, they rose together, palms facing up, drawing imaginary weight from the deck, through the air, and up along the midline of his body. The movement was slow, deliberate, and required immense static control. When his hands reached the height of his brow, his entire body was locked in the deep stance. He paused the breath, and for one suspended moment, the force was a tangible weight pressing down on his powerful shoulders.
On the next sudden, sharp inhale, his stance exploded upward. The power flowed from the deck, up through his legs and spine, straight into his arms. His body twisted violently, channeling the rising energy. His arms snapped out into a powerful, controlled punch, striking the empty air with a force that made the ship's internal humming seem to skip a beat. The movement was a perfectly balanced expression of raw strength and focused aggression, instantly countered by the master's rigid self-control. Immediately, the tension vanished. As he began a long, controlled exhale, his body melted back down. He shifted his weight, rotating his entire frame smoothly as he transitioned into a deep lunge, his back heel lifted. His core stayed rigid, maintaining the perfect posture that kept his spine straight. His arms now moved in the opposite pattern: they dropped low, sweeping down to either side of his forward knee, brushing the air, palms down. This was the moment of Flexibility and Balance, the physical proof that his powerful muscles could extend without being brittle. He was not just strong; he was fluid, limber, and utterly stable in the most challenging pose.
Syn held this deep lunge, his breath suspended briefly. The force, channeled through his body, felt like warm liquid metal flowing along the tight lines of his hamstrings, shoulders, and abdomen, scouring away any resistance. He repeated the sequence, moving into a mirrored lunge on the opposite side, coordinating every powerful thrust and every graceful extension with the disciplined rhythm of his breath, forging his body and his will into one perfect instrument of the force. It allowed him to focus as Alema was guiding them towards their destination.. he still wasn't sure but he trusted the ship and its advanced sensors. The only indication of time was the klaxon coming as he thought about it and Caltin was someone who came to his mind.. the ancient master had been his age maybe a little older and there was always others... few who had actually went from the empire and clone wars the long way. All of them seemed to have slept which made it interesting. He turned his attention as the form appeared a signature in the force he could see. "Sorry master, I was trying to avoid it but someone got the bright idea to try and catch us. We're landing on Lehanis there are a lot of swamps."
She spoke and waiting there for a moment the jedi master gave a nod of his head when his hand came out. The twin blade hilts coming to it as he clipped them to his belt. He was moving as he brought his senses to himself and then expanded them over the ship and then the planet and then further to sense what he could find. The electrical sparks of living creatures. The smell of the swamps came when the airlock doors opened. He was moving out quickly when the sounds of other ships streaking overhead came. They would look for somewhere to land and likely come after them so... best place to be was throwing them into the swamp.
Pelie besk
This was not mere exercise; it was the flow of the force a moving meditation designed to ensure the force coursed unimpeded through his formidable physique. The initial stillness broke with a deep, resonating intake of breath, slow and silent through his nose. His chest expanded, drawing the air deep into his lungs. As he began the slow, measured exhalation, he sank immediately into a deep, wide stance, dropping his center of gravity. His knees tracked over his toes, and the cords of his thighs tightened visibly under the strain. Simultaneously, he initiated the movement of the force in his body. His hands, previously loose, began to move in a broad, sweeping arc. As he exhaled, they rose together, palms facing up, drawing imaginary weight from the deck, through the air, and up along the midline of his body. The movement was slow, deliberate, and required immense static control. When his hands reached the height of his brow, his entire body was locked in the deep stance. He paused the breath, and for one suspended moment, the force was a tangible weight pressing down on his powerful shoulders.
On the next sudden, sharp inhale, his stance exploded upward. The power flowed from the deck, up through his legs and spine, straight into his arms. His body twisted violently, channeling the rising energy. His arms snapped out into a powerful, controlled punch, striking the empty air with a force that made the ship's internal humming seem to skip a beat. The movement was a perfectly balanced expression of raw strength and focused aggression, instantly countered by the master's rigid self-control. Immediately, the tension vanished. As he began a long, controlled exhale, his body melted back down. He shifted his weight, rotating his entire frame smoothly as he transitioned into a deep lunge, his back heel lifted. His core stayed rigid, maintaining the perfect posture that kept his spine straight. His arms now moved in the opposite pattern: they dropped low, sweeping down to either side of his forward knee, brushing the air, palms down. This was the moment of Flexibility and Balance, the physical proof that his powerful muscles could extend without being brittle. He was not just strong; he was fluid, limber, and utterly stable in the most challenging pose.
Syn held this deep lunge, his breath suspended briefly. The force, channeled through his body, felt like warm liquid metal flowing along the tight lines of his hamstrings, shoulders, and abdomen, scouring away any resistance. He repeated the sequence, moving into a mirrored lunge on the opposite side, coordinating every powerful thrust and every graceful extension with the disciplined rhythm of his breath, forging his body and his will into one perfect instrument of the force. It allowed him to focus as Alema was guiding them towards their destination.. he still wasn't sure but he trusted the ship and its advanced sensors. The only indication of time was the klaxon coming as he thought about it and Caltin was someone who came to his mind.. the ancient master had been his age maybe a little older and there was always others... few who had actually went from the empire and clone wars the long way. All of them seemed to have slept which made it interesting. He turned his attention as the form appeared a signature in the force he could see. "Sorry master, I was trying to avoid it but someone got the bright idea to try and catch us. We're landing on Lehanis there are a lot of swamps."
She spoke and waiting there for a moment the jedi master gave a nod of his head when his hand came out. The twin blade hilts coming to it as he clipped them to his belt. He was moving as he brought his senses to himself and then expanded them over the ship and then the planet and then further to sense what he could find. The electrical sparks of living creatures. The smell of the swamps came when the airlock doors opened. He was moving out quickly when the sounds of other ships streaking overhead came. They would look for somewhere to land and likely come after them so... best place to be was throwing them into the swamp.
Pelie besk
