Everyone Has Their Strengths & Their Weaknesses (Jerek Zenduu)

[WolfMortum]

It was a new day for Kashyyyk, and as per the usual these days, Veiere was spending his free time wandering the halls of the Silver Rest, taking an interest in the younger prospects of the Silver Jedi Order. There were many rooms used for training purposes, such as the Dojo where the Jedi Padawan would spar with one another and seek to best their peers as they grew competent in the sword-arts. Others would be running the indoor obstacle course or training together in the open "Arena" like room, where others were able to sit and watch.

Life within the Temple was good, Veiere genuinely enjoyed the structure and the routine of it all. As a Jedi Master, he knew what to expect of the students and what was of expected of him by his peers and the Silver Assembly who were responsible for watching over the Order and maintaining it's high standards of day-to-day activity. Lately, there'd been a number of students who had been approaching him for the encouragement and experience he could share. Students like [member="Mason"] and [member="Aurelion Nova"], [member="Jerek Zenduu"] and even the estranged former Sith Acolyte, [member="Kahlil Zambrano"]...-And to top it all off, Veiere had managed to coerce [member="Loreena Arenais"] to visit, in the hope of getting her to stay and train under the Order of the Silver Jedi.

With the exception of [member="Kay Arenais"], life was finally beginning to look good once more...-And on that front, he had at-least managed to ensure her time served would be as comfortable as a Maximum Security Prison could allow. He had paid off the Warden to make sure that his Wife would be protected inside, that she had a larger cell and time to exercise, as well as reading material to make use of her time each day. It wasn't much when compared to her possible freedom, but under the law of the Galaxy, it was the best he could do without resorting to criminal activity, himself.

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

It was strange now, attending classes once more at the Silver Rest, while still flying the occasional mission out around the galaxy. Or meeting Allya somewhere for a date. She, too, had been busy with the Confederacy and her own training, and his anticipation to see her again was growing stronger every day. He had asked for a break —something he was still getting used to doing again, one of the definite downsides of resuming his training— but his girlfriend had found herself embroiled in another brewing conflict involving the Confederacy and its eternal war machine. Not getting involved in that again was one of the definite upsides of resuming his training.

Roaming the halls of the academic wings, Jerek walked along, seemingly without much purpose. In truth, he was processing as he walked, his mind spinning with different considerations and thoughts. It was what he did best, performing some task on autopilot so that his brain could focus less on what he was doing and more on what he was thinking. It was one of the reasons he loved flying so much, he could become the literal autopilot and let his mind wander on to some better task or problem to solve. So when he heard the girl’s voice calling his name, he stood blankly for a moment trying to register the event, jolted out of his thoughts.

Allya?

“It is you, Jerek!” He felt a set of horns press into in chest as the Zabrak girl wrapped him in an embrace, pinning his arms to his side. Looking down at her, a small flame of recognition sparked in his mind. Jablim, a train…

”Kasari?” The girl wore a great smile on her face as she released him, stepping back to let him breathe again. She nodded once, letting him look her over. She stood tall, the color in her eyes and face was bright again, the picture of youth and vitality once more. It filled him with glee and satisfaction to see her again in such good spirits. ”It’s been forever! I didn’t know you were at the Rest.”

“Yeah, I’ve been here for a few months, doing some classes and such. I have a lot of catching up to do, I guess, the Silvers teach their younglings so much I don’t know!” Kasari seemed to take that in stride, though, Jerek noted. This was a completely different girl than the demure prisoner he had first met on a Sith traincar. “I passed you in the hall a few days ago, but I thought maybe I was just seeing things. But sure as sithspawn, here you are.”

Jerek pulled his head back and turned it a little, staring at the girl with a forced sidelong glance, ”Would the masters really approve of you speaking like that, young lady?” He glowered sternly, and then grinned at her, letting her in on the joke.

“No, probably not. Apparently I had a very rustic upbringing, at least that’s what Master Perl called it,” the girl looked down for a moment, as if remembering. Jerek was quiet for a moment, not sure what he could say in the meantime that wasn’t just a useless platitude, and simply waited for her to be willing again. “I’m not really the perfect padawan, I guess.”

”Trust me, you’re not alone,” the boy offered, his own comment more wistful than he had intended. But still, it seemed to cheer her up, and Kasari nodded in earnest.

“Yeah, there’s a few of us from Jablim here. Others went to Rannon or Commenor or places like that. I really like it here, though, there’s not so much pretending or hiding like there was inside the Empire. And you’re here, too!” Kasari seemed to brighten again, looking every bit the jubilant pre-teen that she should. It was heartening to see that her brief incarceration, and the uncertainty that had surely preceeded it, had not suppressed her zeal for life.

”I’m glad, most of the galaxy doesn’t hate the Jedi like that, but…” Jerek’s face turned sour now, remembering the state of the older Jedi Knights and Masters in that train car, and what they were likely destined for. ”Yeah, well, the Silver Rest is a safe place. Very safe. And there’s tons of trees around if you want more of that rustic experience.”

Kasari laughed this time, and Jerek had to grin once more. She spun, hearing her name called from down the hall, and a pair of waving hands rose above the crowd of heads. “I gotta go, see you around, Knight Jerek!”

”Bye...wait, what?” the padawan blinked at the departing Zabrak girl’s head, calling after her, ”I’m just a padawan, like you.”

To his surprise, the girl spun around, a smirk playing across her face, “Maybe they think so, but you’re my knight, Jerek!” Then Kasari was just a retreating image dancing through the crowd, leaving him staring after her.

Jerek shook his head, making a sound of amusement to himself. The little padawan girl had been flirting with him! He stood still for a moment, a little embarrassed at not catching it until that moment, and wondering a bit at what Allya would think of it. Kasari was just a kid, anyway, just a kid with a crush. That was normal, wasn’t it? He shook his head again, moving on with the flow of traffic in the hallway once more, trying to think of other things to take his mind off the awkwardness of it.

Turning a corner, the boy spotted Master [member="Veiere Arenais"] ahead, and flagged him down. Jerek gave a little bow as he approached the master, making a request out of desperation, ”Hi, Master, I’m glad I saw you. I was wondering if you had a moment for a little sparring?”

That was worth a try.

 

[WolfMortum]

Veiere had been somewhat taken back as a young girl rushed on passed him, his gaze turning to follow her with a half smirk as his thoughts moved to distant memories of how eager he used to be in his day-to-day training and routines as a young Padawan. Such was the fortune of a quiet day for a change, though these times never seemed to last long even when one such as himself was considered to be 'off-duty' so to speak; or at-least where teaching classes was concerned.

”Hi, Master", a familiar voice caught Veiere by surprise and pulled him from his thoughts, "I’m glad I saw you. I was wondering if you had a moment for a little sparring?”. [member="Jerek Zenduu"] stood before him, making something of an interesting request, given their last discussion together. The young lad seemed to be confident at the least, in his continued practices under the Order of the Silver Jedi, something that Veiere was rather gladdened by and also a little relieved that their private little chat hadn't somehow dissuaded Jerek from walking the path of the Jedi.

"I must admit, that it's been some time since I last sparred with any of my Students" Veiere replied thoughtfully, trying to recall who it might have been that he sparred with last, that hadn't also been fully trained or on the opposite side of a real life battle scenario. [member="Romi Jade"] crossed his mind briefly, though the feelings that typically followed those thoughts, weren't something he wished to give the time of day before the curious eyes of the youth. "I don't see why not, Jerek" Veiere spoke up after a moment of consideration, "I do have some free time and I'm interested in seeing how you're doing in your training about the Order" he smiled encouragingly.

"Lead on, then" Veiere added, content to follow in the lads choosing of a training environment. The Silver Rest was equipped with numerous dojo and sparring facilities for this exact purpose, it wasn't as though Jerek would be starved for choice.

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

The training chamber the padawan led Master [member="Veiere Arenais"] to was not far from their encounter, located along one of the halls of the academic wings. The classes here were over, so the high-vaulted room was empty and not expecting more occupants until the next day. It almost felt like a trespass to come in after hours, but Jerek had done similarly in places like these during his time on Ossus, this should be no different. That sentiment just didn't help him shake off the feeling of being a stranger in the wrong place.

Setting down his belongings, including the small datapad he used for classes, the boy began to remove the outer layer of his robes, leaving just the tan undertunic on underneath atop his navy-blue pants and the mid-shin boots he customarily wore when he was being Jedi-official, of which the temple on Kashyyyk here surely counted. It wasn't his normal training outfit, which was far looser in fit to allow him greater movement, but he needed to practice combat in his normal garb anyway, most opponents probably wouldn't wait for him to change into something more appropriate before trying to shoot him or cleave him in half, after all.

Finally, Jerek unclipped the lightsaber from his utility belt, laying the rest of it on the floor with his other things. The hilt was still the standard, youngling saber he had received as an initiate on Ossus. It wasn't the first one he had ever used, but it was more intended for training than combat. Not to mention, for someone with smaller hands. His still fit around the dull-silver hilt, but the padawan had noticed the space between his hands when both were on the grip growing smaller and smaller in the past few years. But the weapon was still sturdy, it still functioned, and he had no complaints about it, so there was little point in seeking out a new one for now.

The blond-haired youth made sure that his lightsaber was switched into the training mode, where contacts would burn and blister but not cut, before moving into the center of the room. He ignited his weapon, the green-hued blade springing to life, and waited for his opponent, ready now to begin the match. Facing the master, Jerek settled into the customary stance for Soresu, his saber arm drawn back above his dominant foot, the other foot and hand thrown forward towards his opponent.

Master Arenais was a Soresu user himself, something the boy had picked up from chatter around the Rest. Jerek wondered idly how this would work even as he tried to clear his mind of any errant thoughts. He had faced other padawans using the form during training before, sure, but those were usually in controlled matches or demonstrations of techniques. In the case of more freeform duels, the boy had simply waited for the other padawan to blink first, they almost always did. A lifetime with his twin brother had taught the boy patience, a trait that had likely endeared him to the form in the first place. Against another practitioner, this one far older and more experienced, Jerek was likely to face a real challenge for the first time in a long time.

"Whenever you're ready, master," Jerek said evenly, trying one last time to clear his mind. It wasn't a taunt or a mark of impatience, simply a statement of intent. A beckoning for the sparring to begin.

 

[WolfMortum]

Veiere Arenais followed [member="Jerek Zenduu"] on into the training room just as he said he would, the Jedi Master glancing about to every corner of the room double-checking that they weren't intruding upon anything; appeased by the lack of others within the dojo, he soon began to remove the cloak he had been gifted by Master [member="Aida Aquila"] the day he had requested to enter into full-time membership with the Silver Order, revealing the rather cared for Jedi Tunic that had been previously hidden beneath.

"How much have you been taught thus far in the lightsaber arts?" He posed the young Jerek a question whilst folding and placing the hooded cloak down upon a bench lining the far wall of the room. From what he could tell of Jerek's hilt, returning back to meet within the center of the room, the young man was holding something similar to a Training Lightsaber, though perhaps not identical. Veiere on the other hand, carried his two Lightsabers upon his belt, both clipped at the right side in front of him, magna-locked in place though easily drawn upon when the need presented itself.

While he awaited the Padawan's answer, he also noted that Jerek sought to fall into a readied stance which Veiere recognized immediately to be the way of the mynock, most commonly the third form of combat taught to Jedi students during their arts and theory lessons. This alone wasn't what stood out to the Master however, and lifting his head slightly in a half nod, Veiere decided to call him out on his first mistake, be it the fact that he hadn't been taught proper etiquette for sparring, or he just plain forgot.

"Before we begin, it's customary to meet your sparring partner on the floor, facing one another and bowing", Veiere bending at the waist, lowering his head to Jerek though not so much as to lose eye contact with the Padawan; "It's a show of good faith, respect and friendly competition during such bouts. Symbolically, this means that any and all possible grievances or prejudice are left at the door and not brought out into the sparring lesson where it might otherwise bring harm or negatively impact the days learning opportunity" he explained, regaining his upright standing and gesturing across the floor for Jerek to follow suit and do the same.

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

The padawan went slack at the reminder, abandoning his form and deactivating his lightsaber. How could he have forgotten such a simple thing? Perhaps he had truly been away from classes and training for too long after all. Or perhaps the encounter in the hallway earlier, and the romantic thoughts it had distracted him from, were an indication that his focus was far too divided. Either way, it was a poor demonstration of his Jedi knowledge. Jerek felt his cheeks burning, less by the master’s reproach as by his own self-admonishment. He could do better, and he knew he could, the misstep was unacceptable.

Feet together, arms at his side, the boy bent in the customary bow of the sparring rite. He stayed a little longer than required, a penance for his omission and to demonstrate his earnestness. Jerek didn’t see the ritual as merely a formality, nor did he want to convey that impression. When he arose, the padawan kept his head ducked down, still a bit sheepish. ”I apologize, Master. My mind was...elsewhere.”

He waited for Master [member="Veiere Arenais"] to lead them into the opening form this time, not wanting to get too far ahead and make another mistake. In the meantime, Jerek offered a response to the man’s earlier question. ”And yes, I’ve had some training already, when I was on Ossus at the Academy there. I prefer Form Three, although I was one of the top duelists in Form One, at least at the time.”

One of the others had been his brother, though, and while Jerek had edged out against other students to climb into the top ranks, the gap between him and his twin was still lightyears apart. Sometimes the boy wondered what Elias could have become eventually, if the challenge could have ever driven Jerek to close the gap in their skills. But the padawan’s focus was already split today, he didn’t need one more thought to dwell upon. Time to return to the here and now. ”My former master was teaching me a little bit of Form Five, Shien. That was his preferred style, but we didn’t get very far. And I kind of like the defensive style, most of the time anyway.”

 

[WolfMortum]

Veiere nodded to the Padawan, accompanied by an appreciative smile for the way [member="Jerek Zenduu"] had both listened and retraced his steps, acknowledging and making up for the small mishap. "Making mistakes is often the best way we learn how to better ourselves, Jerek. Worry not, my young friend" Veiere encouraged him, soon gesturing to the dojo floor and moving to position himself upon the opposite side, taking his place for the initiation of their duel.

Jerek hadn't spoken a great deal about his former Master from back when he was training on Ossus, yet Veiere knew the Jedi Temple there well, as it was considered to be a state-of-the-art institution for those seeking to qualify in the area's of medicine and healing. The Jedi Healers there were once among the top practitioners in all the Galaxy, and at one stage of his own apprenticeship, his own Master had taken him there to visit and experience life within the Ossus Temple for a few days. His former Master, Andina Torsyn, had been trained there back when she was a young Padawan, after all.

"How do you feel, no longer training under him?" Veiere asked curiously, soon shifting his footing, his left leg taking the majority of his weight while he placed his right foot forward. With his lightsaber held in both hands, the blade ignited with a snap hiss and the sudden expulsion of a deep green flare of energy being channeled through the focusing lens and the blade emitter, controlled and humming with an arc of power, held out in-front of him. Another question soon came to mind, though one that he did not voice aloud; it would be interesting to note whether or not Jerek knew the form he would be practicing based off of the stance he had taken. It was certainly not that of Soresu, after all.

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

Nodding at the master’s conciliatory words, the padawan resumed his ready stance, activating his lightsaber in response to the man’s lead. His eyes grew wide as Jerek realized that Master [member="Veiere Arenais"] was opening with the typical stance of Form One. Shii-Cho? Why would a Jedi Master be choosing Shii-Cho? The boy’s mind ran with possible answers to his question, but none of them seemed to satisfy the curiosity the pose inspired. The most basic of lightsaber forms was typically only used as a training technique now, so many of its moves were predictable and had well-known counters. Which, while that made it ideal for younglings and other newcomers to the lightsaber, it seemed an unusual —if not foolhardy— choice for a Jedi Master. Jerek tried not to let it unsettle him, but it was another of a growing list of occurrences recently that was throwing him off-balance.

Jerek considered the man’s posed question as he reached out to tap into the Force. His concentration felt tenuous, though, and the connection was shaky. That only added to the boy’s nervousness as he considered the time he had spent with the master he had during the days of the Republic. Master Beck had been a strong Jedi, and a firm figure in the padawan’s life, yet the two were very different people. Jerek could not deny that he had learned much in his time with the Korun Jedi, but it had been a struggle some days. He preferred to learn from books and classrooms, while Beck preferred to teach while doing. So many of the lessons that Beck had tried to impart had not sunk in until much later. The boy’s time with Beck had been valuable in retrospect, but it left the boy unsure of what to say here. ”I miss him,” he finally admitted. Well, that was honest enough, though it reminded the padawan of a painful truth. ”When the Republic fell, he went one way and I went another. MAster Beck didn’t want to join the Silver Order, he never really said why. I wanted to go with him, but he thought that it would be better if I was here.”

”I guess he thought the Silver Order had a better support network or something? Not that it really worked out well then.”

Jerek shrugged his lean shoulders, a motion as full of helplessness as it was ignorance. There were so many choices the boy wished he had made differently in those days, not the least of which was to follow his former master into whatever redemption question or self-imposed exile the man had insisted embarking upon. Perhaps if he had, Jerek wouldn’t be so far behind now on his training. Maybe he would even be ready for the trials now! Wishful thinking on his part, perhaps, but still a possibility. He had often been taught that the future was a malleable thing, mostly as a caution against trusting in any prophetic glimpses that some would try to interpret from visions or dreams. Yet it was also assurance that few futures were outside the realm of possibilities. Surely there was one in which Jerek now walked the galaxy as a fully-fledged Jedi Knight.

Today, however, was not that future.

Nor was Jerek now with Master Beck. Today, he faced Master Arenais, here and now, with lightsabers drawn for sparring. The padawan needed to focus on that, and not on memory or regret. Nor on the myriad of other thoughts that seemed to plague his mind. He began to shed them willingly, letting them go one by one in the manner he had been taught as a youngling, leaving only a padawan with a lightsaber facing his sparring partner with nothing else at hand.

Except the Force.