Private From Gardens to Glaciers

[Iandre Athlea]

The subtle shift in SH1-FU's optics was a familiar sight to Iandre, reminiscent of how ancient archivists or long-lived beings would look at her when their memory banks began to draw from depths most had forgotten. She stood perfectly still, watching the play of light in the droid's sensors and listening to the unmistakable, quiet whir of processors searching through nearly a millennium of records to find a match for her face.

When the inquiry finally came, her lips curved into a small, patient smile that carried the weight of someone who had grown used to being an anomaly in her own time.

"If you are asking specifically about the biological years my body has experienced," she began, her voice retaining that trademark Jedi calm that seemed to ground the air around her, "then the answer would be that I have lived approximately thirty-two years."

She paused for a beat, just long enough for a spark of dry humor to touch her eyes, making it clear she understood the droid was likely cross-referencing her features with High Republic temple logs or the lineage of her Master, Aisha.

"However, if you are asking how long it has truly been since I walked the battlefields of the Clone Wars..."

She allowed her shoulders to lift in a gentle, graceful shrug, as if the staggering span of time were merely a footnote in a long-winded report.

"Then the answer is somewhere in the realm of nine centuries, give or take a few decades for the drifting of the stars."

The statement was delivered with such steady composure that it almost masked the faint note of self-awareness lingering behind her words; she had learned through trial and error that it was far simpler to state the impossible plainly than to let others wonder at the gaps in her history.

"Time tends to behave with a certain fluid strangeness when cryostasis and the deeper currents of the Force are involved," she added, letting the topic settle into the quiet of the hold without feeling the need to dwell on the cold sleep that had preserved her.

When SH1-FU moved on to explain the original navigation estimates for their journey, she offered a thoughtful nod, her mind already tracing the invisible ley lines of the hyperspace routes they would need to traverse.

"A window of three to five days felt like a very reasonable expectation for the route we discussed, especially considering that discretion almost always demands a longer, more winding path," she noted, though the sudden ping of a message from the cockpit pulled her attention sharply back to the present moment.

Two and a half days.

Her brows lifted in a look of mild, genuine surprise as she processed the updated arrival time, a small tilt of her head suggesting she was already re-evaluating the ship's capabilities.

"That is a considerably more aggressive pace than I had initially prepared for," she said, her voice carrying no hint of suspicion, only the calm curiosity of one who appreciated a fine piece of engineering. "Your captain must have discovered a remarkably efficient corridor, or perhaps the ship simply has a much greater spirit than its exterior suggests."

She stole a brief, lingering glance toward the cockpit door before turning her full attention back to the venerable training droid, her posture relaxing into a more informal stance.

"In that case, I suppose I will not need to trouble your circuits with quite as many sparring sessions as I had first intended to request," she remarked, a soft, warm smile following the comment. "Though I would still very much enjoy the opportunity for at least one bout before we make our final approach to Hoth."

Ti'sonta

 

[Ti'sonta]

"My word..." SH1-FU spoke, his cortex whirring as it processed this new revelation. "It seems we're both strangers in a strange time."
The droid's optics focused on Iandre as she made her request. "Well then, I would be happy to train with you in any mode of your choosing, Miss Iandre. I must say, I haven't sparred with a Jedi in quite a while. Doubly so with someone from our time. This should be a thrilling trip!"

"You two about to cross laser swords?"
Ti'sonta stepped out of the cockpit and into the converted cargo/living quarters to see her friend chatting amicably with their Jedi passenger. The twi'lek leaned casually on the bulkhead, a small wry smile growing on her face.
SH1-FU let out a dignified groan. "Light sabres Ti'sonta. They are called Lightsabres, not laser swords. I swear, you do that just to annoy me."
"You know I do." Ti'sonta tittered before turning to Iandre. "Just letting you know we're about half an hour away from the hyperspace jump point. So from now until we get out of hyperspace, you're free to do as you wish."

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre's expression warmed with a genuine, soft light at SH1-FU's remark, a sense of quiet understanding settling between them like a shared secret. The droid's presence was a grounding constant, and she found herself relaxing into its familiarity.

"It would certainly seem so," she said gently, her voice carrying a melodic touch of affection. "Though perhaps that shared history makes this particular journey feel just a little less unfamiliar, and a great deal more like coming home."

When the droid accepted her request to spar, she inclined her head with deep appreciation, her posture softening with a grace that spoke of long-standing respect for his programming and spirit.

"I would truly welcome the opportunity," she replied, her eyes bright with anticipation. "A controlled session, nothing too strenuous, simply a way to reconnect with the old forms. It has been quite some time since I last had the pleasure of training against a Temple unit, and I've missed the precision of it."

The sudden, lively voice from the doorway drew her attention, and she turned with a fluid ease to regard Ti'sonta. The faintest hint of a playful, amused smile touched her features as she listened to the banter between the captain and her droid, their dynamic bringing a spark of life to the hold.

"I believe 'lightsaber' is the more precise term, Captain," she added with a calm, melodic humor, though the softness in her tone made it clear she was simply enjoying the chance to join in on their easy rapport.

Her gaze shifted between the two of them, her expression highlighting the warmth she felt for their unconventional partnership.

"Though I suspect your captain enjoys testing the limits of your patience just as much as you enjoy keeping her in check, SH1-FU, she teased gently.

When Ti'sonta informed her of the impending jump to hyperspace, Iandre gave a small, respectful nod, recognizing the weight of the Captain's responsibility over her ship.

"Thank you for the notice, Ti'sonta," she said, her voice sincere. "I truly appreciate the courtesy of keeping me informed. It's a rare comfort to be on a ship so well-tended."

She considered the timeframe for a brief moment, her posture remaining relaxed but showing the quiet, deliberate focus of a practitioner. Before turning back to the droid, she caught the Captain's eye, offering a deferential incline of her head.

"If you have no objections, Captain, I would like to take advantage of these few quiet moments before the jump," she requested, her tone inviting rather than demanding. "Would it be alright if SH1-FU and I engaged in a brief sparring session? I find it helps ground the spirit before the shift into hyperspace."

A faint, warm smile followed as she looked between them both.

"It may help pass the time more effectively than simply waiting, and it would be a privilege to move through the forms again."

Then, with a hospitable tilt of her head, she centered her focus back on Ti'sonta.

"You are more than welcome to observe, if you wish. I've always found that the energy of a good audience makes for a much more spirited practice."

There was a light, inclusive kindness in the offer as she stepped toward the open space of the cargo hold, her movements already flowing with a subtle, rhythmic preparation for the session ahead.

Ti'sonta

 

[Ti'sonta]

"Sure!" Ti'sonta smiled, making her way into the empty cargo hold and sat down cross-legged atop a cargo crate tucked against the wall. "Shifu's been trying to teaching me how to meditate and a bit of unarmed combat lately, so it'll be fun to watch him use those lightsabres."
"Trying being the operative word..." SH1-FU snarked in return, earning a poked-out tongue from the twi'lek.
The droid stepped into the centre of the cargo hold's empty space and turned to face Iandre. A compartment opened up from the inside of one of his forearms, where he plucked out a training sabre and held it in both hands, taking the opening stance of Shii-cho.
"Let us start from the first form and work our way through the basic forms, shall we?" SH1-FU offered, igniting the training sabre, causing Ti'sonta to gasp at the sight of the flickering green glow and the gentle hum of the blade.
"Wow...last time I saw those was when those slavers tried to board us last fortnight." Ti'sonta commented, kicking her boots off and letting them thunk onto the decking. "Scared them witless to see Shifu bearing down on them with all four of them glowing and bouncing their blaster shots back at them!" SH1-FU's shoulders relaxed as he recalled the memory. "That was an unexpected encounter for them, indeed..." he intoned. "But that's a story for another time. We have more important matters at hand."
Ti'sonta smiled a small smile. "Thanks again, by the way." She answered. "Those metal bikinis are not fun to wear."

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre stepped fully into the open space of the cargo hold, her movements fluid and deliberate as the subtle shift in her posture marked the transition from casual conversation to the sacred discipline of the Jedi. While the air of the ship was metallic and recycled, she seemed to carry a quiet stillness with her, a centeredness that softened the hard edges of the room. The warmth in her expression didn't vanish; instead, it matured into something more focused and precise, a look of encouraging intent that was far from unkind.

At Ti'sonta's comment, a genuine, faint smile touched her lips, reaching the corners of her eyes.

"I imagine they were not expecting a Temple instructor to greet them," she said lightly, a trace of soft amusement dancing in her voice. "Few things are more effective than surprise paired with skill, though I find the look of realization on a slaver's face is a reward all its own."

Her gaze lingered on the Twi'lek for a moment longer than necessary. She didn't just hear the words; she felt the echo of the trauma mentioned. Reaching out with the Force, she offered a silent, calming ripple of reassurance toward her friend.

"I am truly glad you were not harmed, Ti'sonta," she added quietly, her voice dropping to a sincere, melodic register. "The galaxy is often far too take-oriented; it is good to see you standing tall despite it."

As SH1-FU produced the training saber and took his stance, Iandre's attention shifted fully back to the center of the hold, her focus sharpening with a mentor's keen eye. She reached to her side, her fingers finding the familiar cold metal of her hilt with the ease of a thousand repetitions.

With a smooth, practiced motion. One that felt less like a draw and more like an extension of her own arm, she brought her lightsaber into the light.

The hilt was a work of art, elegant and refined, clearly balanced for the dancing precision of a duelist rather than the heavy strikes of a brute. When she ignited it, a vibrant emerald blade sprang to life with a clean, steady hum. The green glow washed over the gray metal walls of the cargo hold, bathing them in the color of a lush forest, casting soft light across Iandre's face and highlighting the calm resolve in her features.

For a brief moment, she simply held it.

She wasn't just holding a weapon; she was centering herself, becoming a conduit for the light. She was present in every breath, every vibration of the ship's engines.

When SH1-FU suggested beginning with the first form, she inclined her head with a look of quiet approval.

"A wise choice," she replied, her tone encouraging and steady. "As you wish, my friend."

Then she shifted her weight.

Her stance settled into Shii-Cho, the most fundamental of all forms. It was textbook in its structure—grounded, open, and built for the broad motions that taught a student the geometry of defense. Yet even within this rudimentary simplicity, the refinement of her true mastery bled through. The way she held the blade, the subtle, graceful angle of her wrist, and the perfect economy of motion in her shoulders all whispered of a practitioner far more accustomed to the fencing elegance of Makashi.

She was choosing to begin at the beginning, honoring the foundation before the flare.

Her blade angled forward, a shimmering green line of safety and challenge.

"I am ready when you are," she said softly, her voice a warm anchor in the quiet hold.

She waited then, composed and infinitely patient, watching SH1-FU with the expectant, proud gaze of an instructor waiting to be impressed by her student's first move.

Ti'sonta

 

[Ti'sonta]

Ti'sonta instinctively flinched when she felt the caress of the jedi's calming ripple, her mental suppression of the force clamping down harder upon herself to keep the outside mind from finding anything. The twi'lek offered a small smile as SH1-FU took position, unaware of what had happened between the two.

First, the training droid started off slow, moving through the standard attacks and responses of Shii-Cho at a reduced speed to allow Iandre to make any corrections in her form that would normally go missed when at full speed. As the two worked their way through the practice routines, SH1-FU gradually picked up speed, each move steadily growing faster and faster until he was at full human speed, occasionally throwing out out of sequence attacks to keep his sparring partner from getting too complacent.

Ti'sonta sat on her crate, her face a mask of wonder as her inner mind instinctively analysed the fighting style of their passenger.
{Strong grasp of fundamentals, but her style feels like she wants to extend the blade out further like a duellist. Perhaps prefers Makashi?} Ti'sonta thought as she watched the duel. She herself had Sparred with SH1-FU many times, and her own curved hilted lightsaber had clashed with her friend's green hued blades in the very spot that Iandre stood now. Its weight in the concealed pocket sewn into the lining of her jacket felt comforting, and she hoped that she would never have to use it on this flight. But until then, her instincts screamed at her to prepare for every contingency. So she sat there, she watched, and she analysed.

"Excellent work Miss Iandre, your foundations are strong!" SH1-FU praised, taking a step back and moving into the ready position. "Shall we move onto form two?"

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre moved with quiet precision as the session began. Her blade met SH1-FU's in measured and deliberate arcs. The rhythm of Shii-Cho came easily because each motion flowed into the next with practiced familiarity. She made small adjustments as they progressed. These were subtle refinements rather than corrections since her form was already deeply ingrained from years of training.

As the tempo increased, her focus sharpened.

Where the form encouraged broader movements, her instincts began to narrow them. She tightened the angles and shortened the arcs to draw everything inward toward a more refined centerline. Even while she adhered to the structure of the first form, there was an unmistakable pull toward something more precise and economical.

When SH1-FU introduced irregular strikes, her response was immediate. A slight pivot. A controlled parry. A redirection rather than resistance.

Her blade met his with a quiet confidence that never overextended or wasted motion. When he finally stepped back and offered praise, she eased out of her stance. She lowered her blade slightly while her breathing remained steady and controlled.

"Thank you," she replied, her tone warm but composed. "The foundations were emphasized in my time."

Her gaze flickered briefly toward Ti'sonta to catch the watchful stillness in the Twi'lek's posture before she returned her attention to SH1-FU. At his suggestion, a faint and knowing smile touched her lips.

"Yes," she said softly. "I believe that would be appropriate."

She shifted again, and this time the change was immediate. Her stance narrowed. Her blade angled with elegant precision as she held it forward with a duelist's poise. Every line of her posture became more refined. The weapon became an extension of thought rather than mere motion. Where Shii-Cho had been open and foundational, this was controlled and exact.

This was Makashi. The transition looked entirely natural.

"Please," she said, her voice calm and inviting. "Continue."

Her blade steadied. The green glow remained unwavering as she settled fully into the form she clearly favored, ready to meet whatever came next.

Ti'sonta

 

[Ti'sonta]

SH1-FU performed the classic Makashi salute before changing his stance, holding his lightsaber loosely whilst tucking his spare arm behind his back. As before, the training droid moved through the routine strikes and parries at a slower speed for Iandre to grow accustom to the pace before gradually speeding up to full speed, his optics and processors whirring as he analysed her movements and offered the occasional encouraging comment or subtle critique.

Ti'sonta too was analysing the duel, her mind hard at work while her face maintained the mask of innocent curiosity as the two emerald blades danced with each other.
{Knew it, she's a Makashi duellist...keeps her weight on her back foot...excellent footwork...decent blade control...could benefit from a curved hilt, but the straight ones do give more versatility in available forms...}
As a jedi that was constantly out in the field, Iandre would have the upper hand in experience alone. The last time Ti'sonta ever crossed blades with someone outside of SH1-FU's training was when she fled the temple. Boy was always a brute and a bully, and his lightsaber combat reflected that. His Double-bladed lightsaber was more proof of that as he used it to throw his anger into his blows more easily. But Boy was predictable, and never suspected that Ti'sonta was always letting him and the other acolytes win against her. She could still remember the look of rage and confusion on his face when she sliced his lightsaber in half before force pushing him into one of the temple pillars.
No, Ti'sonta would have to rely on her usual tricks to turn the tide. Favouring the back leg meant that a force push behind the knee would easily buckle it, or even pinning the front foot down when retreating would cause her to stagger. Loose robes mean a simple wardrobe malfunction or pulling her hood over her eyes would be enough of a distraction to slip the blade in.
But again, experience in a Jedi's job means she would expect such dirty tricks from a scoundrel like her.
Ti'sonta continued her analysis, and through it all she came to one conclusion:
In a straight-up duel, she wasn't sure who would win.

Her musings came to a halt when her datapad chimed at her, signalling that her ship was near the hyperspace lane. With a theatrical groan, Ti'sonta hopped down from her crate and made her way to the cockpit, making sure to give the fighters a wide berth.
"Sorry to interrupt, but could I borrow your sparring partner for a few minutes?" Ti'sonta asked Iandre. "We're approaching the jump point and we need two pilots to get the ship into Hyperspace."

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre's focus did not break immediately at the interruption, her body completing the final arc of the form with a quiet, practiced precision that spoke of decades spent in the training halls. The emerald glow of her blade cast long, flickering shadows against the bulkheads as she allowed the momentum to settle, the hum of the saber softening into a low thrum while she stepped back a fraction, her posture easing without fully relaxing as the lingering discipline of the combat stance remained etched into the set of her shoulders.

At Ti'sonta's words, her attention shifted with a slow, deliberate grace, revealing an expression devoid of irritation and filled instead with a calm acknowledgment of the ship's internal necessities. She understood better than most that the rigid realities of hyperspace travel did not bend for the sake of personal training, no matter how welcome the physical exertion had been to her restless mind.

With a small, controlled motion of her thumb, she disengaged the ignition.

The blade snapped off with a soft, final hiss that seemed to suck the light from the room, and she lowered the hilt to her side, the weight of the metal a familiar comfort against her palm.

"Of course," she said, her voice remaining even and accommodating despite the sudden transition from warrior to passenger. "Duty must always take priority over the luxuries of practice, especially when the stars themselves are waiting for us to move."

Her gaze moved briefly to SH1-FU, and for a fleeting second, a faint and genuine warmth touched her features, softening the sharp lines of her composure.

"Thank you for the exertion, SH1-FU. I would be more than glad to continue our exchange once the ship is settled and you find yourself available again."

She inclined her head slightly in a gesture that conveyed both deep-seated respect and quiet appreciation, before stepping back into the shadows of the hold to grant them the clear space they needed to move past her toward the cockpit.

"I will remain here and stay clear of the navigation arrays while you and the Captain complete the jump into the lane," she added, her tone carrying a quiet steadiness that suggested she was entirely at ease adapting to the shifting rhythms of the ship and its dedicated crew.

As they moved off toward the nose of the vessel, she remained standing in the center of the hold for a moment longer, her eyes briefly following the retreating pair before her gaze drifted toward the viewport where the distant pinpricks of light blurred against the black.

The stars awaited her, cold and indifferent, and as the ship prepared to plunge into the shimmering blue of the leap, that familiar, nagging uncertainty began to coil in her chest once more. She wondered, not for the first time, if this journey was truly the path the Force intended for her, or if she was simply chasing a ghost of a life she no longer knew how to lead: searching for a destination that might offer her something more than the heavy, echoing silence that currently filled the spaces where her past used to be.

Ti'sonta

 

[Ti'sonta]

Ti'sonta had already sat in the pilot's seat by the time SH1-FU had locked the cockpit door behind him. He watched the twi'lek flipping switches and double checking readings on her console as he plugged himself into the co-pilot's console and opened up the inter-pilot comms.
"...Are you feeling alright, Ti'sonta?" the droid asked, a faint tinge of concern colouring his voice through the headset.
Ti'sonta's shoulders drooped as she sighed, releasing the tension she was carrying in her body. "About as well as I can be. Just...got a bad feeling about this mission is all." She explained. "Sorry about taking you away from your fun. I know it's been a while since you've chatted with a proper jedi."
SH1-FU allowed himself a small smile as he powered up the hyperdrive. "It's no problem. I still have another two days to enjoy myself. Sparring and meditating will be a pleasant way to pass the time. But I'm more concerned about your well being. You seem more on edge than usual."
Ti'sonta let out a small sad chuckle. "Can't keep a secret from you, eh? The truth is, I've always been on edge. I just don't have much energy to hide it right now" she explained. "I feel like Paranoia rules my life these days, And I'm getting tired of always looking behind my back in case there's a jedi or a sith behind me. In this case, the former is quite literal." She pinched the bridge of her nose and centered herself before continuing. "Look, I know how important this is for you, and I'm not going to get in the way of you enjoying yourself. I'd be a poor friend if I stopped you from doing what you wanted just because I'm feeling a bit antsy." Ti'sonta let out a small hollow titter at this. "I'll be fine. I just need to meditate a bit and empty my mind before I light up to our passenger like a big sith life day tree."
SH1-FU looked up at this. "...The Sith celebrate Life Day?" he asked wryly.
"This got Ti'sonta a snort of genuine laughter. "Pfft, Nah. Rest was for the weak, Plenty of neuro whips for the stragglers, though. Welp was deadly with the whip when he got going."
This got a sad smile from Ti'sonta and a concerned look from SH1-FU before he turned back to his work. Of course he knew of Ti'sonta's past. Of her sith training, of her change of heart and escape. She joked about it now, but experience had taught the old droid that negative experiences cannot be bottled up inside organics for long before they explode. Force preserve him, he had no routines for psychiatry! He would need to find another way to aid his partner before she slid back to the Dark Side.
Ti'sonta flipped a switch before speaking into the ship's general PA system. "All Passengers, prepare for hyperspace transition." She announced before switching the general comms off, leaving SH1-FU and herself the only ones connected.
"Okay, let's do it."
The ship lurched forward as the stars outside the Dolly Dagger stretched out around them, the tiny pinpricks of light forming lances of light that raced past the cockpit in an almost hypnotising dance.
"...There. All done." Ti'sonta sighed, activating the autopilot and standing up from her console. "If you don't mind, I think I might head to my room for a while. I need to meditate and clear my head if I'm to make it through the trip."

~~~
​

SH1-FU returned alone from the cockpit, the old droid stepping back into the cargo hold.
"Thank you for being patient, Miss Iandre." SH1-FU apologised. "We should be leaving Hyperspace at the Dark Curtain by tomorrow."

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre had felt the transition long before the ship completed its jump.

The shift into hyperspace passed through her like a ripple across still water, subtle but unmistakable. The hum of the vessel changed pitch, the quiet tension of realspace giving way to the strange, suspended calm that followed. She had taken a seat along the bulkhead during the transition, one hand resting lightly against the hull as though grounding herself in the present moment.

By the time SH1-FU returned, her eyes were already open.

She turned her attention toward him as he stepped back into the cargo hold, her expression composed, the faintest trace of calm still lingering in her posture.

"There is no need to apologize," she said evenly. "The transition was smooth."

She rose with a fluid, unhurried motion, settling fully back into the present.

"Two and a half days, then," she added, more to acknowledge the timeline than to question it.

Her gaze shifted briefly toward the cockpit door, then back to SH1-FU.

"Your captain sounded…occupied," she said after a moment, careful and neutral in her phrasing. "If she requires the space, I will not intrude."

There was no assumption in her tone, only quiet respect for the boundaries of the ship and its crew.

She inclined her head slightly.

"In the meantime, I would still welcome the chance to continue our training when it is convenient."

A faint softness returned to her expression, grounded and steady.

"Or simply the quiet, if that is what the moment calls for."

Ti'sonta

 

[Ti'sonta]

SH1-FU nodded as he plucked a training lightsaber from his hidden forearm compartment once more. "Miss Ti'sonta...let's just say she has good reason to avoid Sith space. Worry, not, once she has taken a contract, she will do all in her power to complete it to the best of her abilities. You need not worry about your mission." The droid once again folded a pair of his arms behind his back before stepping into the middle of the cargo hold once more. "Until then, I would be more than happy to spar with you to your hearts content. Now, would you like to continue with the basics, or would you prefer a more free-style session?"

~~~
​

Ti'sonta sat cross-legged in the middle of her cabin. The pilot's cabin was extremely small, barely bigger than some home's walk-in pantries. But for her it was the only place she could truly call home. Her cot lay against one wall, a long indent in the wall barely tall enough to sit up in fitted with a thin mattress made with black silk sheets. She was really proud of those sheets. After helping a client break into a crime lord's penthouse to steal incriminating documents, she let the intrusive thoughts win and swiped them off bed, along with the bath robe and fuzzy slippers currently hanging in the client's room. SH1-FU didn't approve of course, but they just felt so niiiice when she slipped under the covers that she kept them anyway.
A small built in closet stood at the foot of her bed, and various knick-knacks sat on shelves or hung everywhere in her room, all collections from her travels among the stars and each with their own little story to tell.

But those didn't matter right now. What was Important was the candle on the floor in front of Ti'sonta.

Ti'sonta sat upright and cross-legged in front of the candle. It's long, thin flame flickering in the recycled air ducts as she focused her thoughts on that single point. Her breathing steadied and slowed like how she was taught all those years ago as an acolyte under the stern scrutiny of Darth Calidus. But instead of focusing and folding her hate onto the point, she instead followed SH1-FU's calm, measured instruction and let all her emotions ebb away. There was nothing in this room. There was only the Force, and that single flame. Once her emotions were allowed to float away, she began to let other parts drift away and shut down for a while. Her thoughts began to ease ever more into the background, then her awareness of the room around her. Even her hearing and sense of touch ebbed away. She only maintained just enough consciousness to maintain her careful control of her force signature. It was a poor substitute, but until she finished the mission and got out of SIth Space, this would have to replace proper sleep for her.

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre watched SH1-FU for a quiet moment as he reset himself in the center of the cargo hold, the familiar precision of his movements settling something steady within her. There was comfort in routine. In form. In the simple, structured language of a blade meeting another.

Her gaze lingered on him as he spoke of Ti'sonta, noting the choice of words more than the explanation itself. Good reason to avoid Sith space. It was not her place to press further, and so she did not. Whatever the Captain carried, it was hers to keep.

Instead, Iandre inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment.

"I do not doubt her commitment," she said calmly. "Nor yours."

As he stepped forward and offered her the choice, her hand moved almost instinctively to her lightsaber. The familiar weight settled into her palm as she drew it free, the polished hilt catching the low light of the cargo hold. For a brief moment, she simply held it there, grounded by the quiet certainty it provided.

Then she looked back at him, a faint warmth touching her expression.

"We have honored the foundations," she said, her tone thoughtful but steady. "It would be good to see how they breathe when not bound so tightly."

A small shift of her stance followed, subtle but deliberate. Her footing angled, her posture relaxed just enough to allow for fluidity, though the underlying precision of her training remained unmistakable.

"A free-form exchange, then," she added.

With a soft snap-hiss, her green blade came to life, its glow casting a gentle wash of light across the hold. She let the hum settle into the space between them, her focus narrowing without hardening, calm rather than competitive.

For a heartbeat, she did not move. Then, with controlled ease, she stepped forward. Not an attack. Not yet. An invitation.

Ti'sonta

 

[Ti'sonta]

SH1-FU inclined his head in acknowledgement before saluting and holding his own training lightsaber at the ready. "I shall aim to not disappoint, Miss Iandre."
With that the training droid stepped forward and launched into his first attack, a simple strike of the Shii-cho form that was blocked with ease by the jedi. Back and forth the two duelled, SH1-FU offering encouragement and education in equal measure as he cycled through his programmed sabre forms seemingly at random. Emerald green beams danced and clashed against each other for what felt like an age, until finally Iandre struck a telling blow against SH1-FU's wrist, causing him to step back and deactivate his lightsaber with a sucking hiss.
"Well done Miss Iandre, well done indeed." SH1-FU beamed. "And well done for the disarming strike. Just like a true jedi."
The two were interrupted by the sound of a faucet running, SH1-FU Looked behind his duelling partner to see Ti'sonta filling up a pot with water before placing it on the cooker top of what passed for a galley tucked away in the corner of the cargo hold.
The twi'lek paused before looking at the both of them, her face neutral yet slightly quizzical. "...Don't mind me, get getting the evening meal ready." She explained, taking out a powdered stock from a small cupboard and stirring in a few measured spoonfuls into the pot. "This will take about half an hour, so feel free to continue if you want."

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre allowed the final motion of her strike to settle before lowering her blade, the hum of her lightsaber fading a heartbeat after SH1-FU's with a soft, controlled hiss. The stillness that followed was not abrupt, but deliberate, her breathing already returning to a calm, even rhythm as she re-centered herself.

At his praise, she inclined her head slightly, the acknowledgment quiet and without flourish.

"You honor me, SH1-FU," she replied gently. "Your guidance remains as precise as ever."

Her gaze shifted briefly to his wrist, where her strike had landed, not with pride, but with the analytical consideration of a practitioner measuring outcome against intent.

"And your adaptability makes for a far more instructive partner than most," she added, a faint warmth touching her tone. "It is… good to be reminded of that."

The sound of movement drew her attention, and she turned with a smooth, unhurried motion toward the small galley. Her expression softened slightly as she took in Ti'sonta's quiet intrusion into the space, the shift from sparring to something as simple as preparing a meal grounding the moment in an unexpected way.

"We do not mind at all," she said, her voice calm, carrying easily without intruding. "Though I suspect the scent of food may prove more distracting than any blade."

There was a subtle thread of light humor there, understated but genuine.

She returned her attention to SH1-FU then, her posture easing just enough to signal a shift in tempo rather than a continuation of the same intensity.

"Perhaps we ease the pace," she suggested. "Refinement over momentum."

Her hand adjusted slightly on the hilt at her side, though she did not immediately reignite the blade.

"Form, control, and intention… rather than pressure."

A brief pause followed as she glanced once more toward the galley, then back.

"Unless you would prefer to rest before the next exchange," she added, offering the choice rather than assuming it.

The moment settled into something quieter now, no less focused, but no longer driven by the need to test.

Ti'sonta

 

[Ti'sonta]

SH1-FU inclined his head respectfully. "I am willing to slow to a more relaxed pace for our next duel, if you so wish." he replied, resuming his position in what had become their training arena. "A slower pace for refining technique and polishing skills would be an excellent idea, Miss Iandre."

Whilst the two discussed and prepared to duel one another, Ti'sonta busied herself in the galley. She lowered in a few eggs to boil in the stock water before busying herself with slicing up various vegetables for the dinner. The clash of lightsabers and the dancing green flashes reflected against the bulkhead wall told her that her friend was duelling their client again. A small smile crept onto her face. SH1-FU was thoroughly enjoying himself, it seemed. Having a jedi on board was doing the old droid a world of good. She listened to their respectful and calm discussions whilst they duelled, and let out a small sigh. She wondered to herself if jedi always duelled in a calm, refined manner, or if they only reserved the honourable stuffiness for their fellows while cutting loose against their enemies. She pondered this as she dumped in the vegetables into the pot and fished out the now boiled eggs, taking the time to shell them before adding them back into the boiling stock. She always held back against SH1-FU when they duelled. She couldn't bare to break out her usual tricks when fighting her friend, and with the old droid's influence, she's found herself holding back more and more whenever she actually had to fight. Sure, she always fought dirty, but going for the kill was something she found harder and harder to do.
Was this the light side?
She shook her head as she got out a pack of dried noodles and added two balls into a pair of wire baskets to boil in the stock. She knew she still reeked of the Dark Side when she wasn't hiding her connection to the Force. Her amber eyes were more than testament to that. Sith didn't just cross over to being jedi and carry on like nothing happened.

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre inclined her head in quiet agreement as SH1-FU accepted the shift in pace, her posture settling into something more measured, more deliberate. Where before there had been motion and testing, now there was intention. Each movement would carry weight; each decision would be considered rather than instinctively executed.

Her thumb brushed lightly along the activation stud before her blade came alive once more, the familiar green glow casting soft light across her features. She stepped forward, not to press an advantage, but to meet him within that shared understanding.

The first exchange came slowly.

Deliberately.

Their blades met with a controlled contact, not forceful, but precise, the kind of measured engagement that spoke more of discipline than competition. Iandre's footwork adjusted in subtle increments, her weight shifting with quiet efficiency as she guided the rhythm rather than chasing it.

"Control reveals more than speed ever could," she said softly as their blades parted and met again, her voice calm, unhurried. "It leaves less room for instinct to hide behind."

Another exchange followed, her movements clean, economical. Where openings appeared, she acknowledged them without exploiting them fully, allowing the moment to exist as a lesson rather than a victory.

Her awareness extended beyond the duel, not intrusive, but present. The soft sounds from the galley, the quiet rhythm of preparation, the shift in atmosphere from combat to something almost… domestic. It grounded the space in a way she had not expected.

"A blade does not need urgency to be effective," she continued, her tone thoughtful. "Only clarity."

A slight pivot, a controlled redirection, her blade gliding rather than striking.

"When the mind is still, the choice becomes simple."

For a moment, her gaze flickered past SH1-FU, just briefly, toward the galley where Ti'sonta moved about her work. There was no judgment in the glance, only quiet observation, as if acknowledging a presence rather than studying it.

Then her focus returned fully to the exchange.

Their blades met again, slower now, more intentional, the rhythm of the duel settling into something almost meditative.

"Even in conflict," she added softly, "there can be balance."

Ti'sonta