Light Touch of the Steel Hand

[Tiland Kortun]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Md110cym4WI​

Rebellion Actual- Empty Hangar ​

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"Always in motion is the Force," Tiland said, hands clasped behind his back. "And if you wish to learn to defend yourself and others with nothing but your hands, so must you." He paced in front of the assembled students, soft leather boots making no sound on the durasteel deck. "All life is energy and to master both the Light Hand and the Steel Hand, one must know to master how the energy flows in any situation."

He spun on his heel, flicking up a staff that had rested against a wooden dummy. It flipped into the air and the old Jedi caught it balanced on his wrist. "Like this staff is every situation. Balanced between peace and violence." He let it sway one way and then the other. "It takes only a light touch to restore the balance."

One finger tapped the staff and corrected the balance. Tiland's face was serious, yet there was a spark that burned in his eyes. "The first tenet of my teaching is this: use only what is needed to restore the balance. There are as many ways to this as there are situations, so it is the principle that must be taught, not the specifics."

He let the staff begin to slide off its wrist as one end tilted downwards, and he held it there, carefully. "I can counter the energy pulling this down, if I wished." With the other hand, he pushed it back up, but that overcompensated and it began to fall the other way. "Yet that too can upset the balance. Instead-" Tiland paused and flicked the wrist holding the staff so as to push it further, until it spun around back to balance, where he caught it. "Or I can use that energy in my own way to restore the balance."

Tiland stopped moving and once again, with a single finger, brought the staff to a halt in front of him. He set it back against the training dummy and resumed his pacing. "Teras Kasi, the Steel Hand, was designed to fight and kill Jedi many thousands of years ago." He let that sink in. "Yet since then, it has travaled the galaxy, developing and changing as all forms do. What I am teaching you is the Way of the Light Hand, a form that I developed after completing my training with Teras Kasi Master [member="Vorhi Alestrani"]. It combines the traditional teras kasi with that of my homeworld, the fighting style of the Anzati assassins."

He gave all of them a severe look. "I think you will find it more than enough to restore balance to any personal encounter. Now-" One bony finger jabbed upwards. "The most foundational aspect of teras kasi is to control your mind, and by extension, yourself. For those of you who are Jedi, you will find this akin to moving meditation or the methods of the Matukai. For those who are not Jedi, never fear. One need not be Force sensitive to shield your mind against the Force."

The Jedi Master paused and rotated to face them, meeting each of their gazes. "Close your eyes. Find the energy within your spirit. That is what you must learn to control and use to maintain the Harmony of Flow. It is that from which all other aspects develop. Take that energy and with your breath, surround your spirit with it. While mentalism targets the mind, it is the spirit that it affects. As you develop your skill with hardening this energy, so too will your mind be more resistant to the mental tricks of your opponent, both with the Force and without. Practice this now."

[member="Kimiko Taiyō"] [member="Telok"] [member="Gray Venasir"]

 

[Maokai Bantam]

By the force why was I here, the young Zeltron thought.

Dad said this would be good for me, help me to fight better. Guess I should listen to "High Marshel" Bantam, the old man has been around the outer rim once or twice, still Find my inner spirit, maintain the harmony of flow?

Maokai hated to be still, he hated this old ways stuff even more. Still he was here, might as well try this space meditation stuff, what did he have to lose. With a huff and a deep exhale he closed his eyes, not really sure what to do, or how to do it.

[member="Tiland Kortun"]

 

[Quell Rook]

It had taken him weeks of travel from the Minos Cluster to get here, sequestered as Rebellion Actual was in Kathol Republic space deep within the Outback. All on the rumor [member="Tiland Kortun"] had been sighted in the region. Supposedly he was reputed to be one of the greatest fighters in the Outer Rim, but when Telok finally ingratiated himself with the Underground enough to gain access to one of their mobile bases he began to wonder if he had been duped. This man, who had been pointed out to him as Master Kortun himself, was nothing but an old man preaching about inner peace.

"Balance is overrated," the Noghri called out willfully, heedless of the disruptive effect his behavior was having on Tiland's lesson and the concentration of his students, "Control, perhaps. But only as a means to channel your passions. The greatest warriors understand this."

Telok began to circle the old man, as if sizing up an opponent or perhaps more aptly stalking prey.

"You have nothing to teach me," he announced at last, as if he had finally decided, "You're just an old man afraid of his own emotions."

The Noghri tore a piece of cloth from his garb and shoved his way past Maokai, tossing it between them. In an artificially generated atmosphere, the piece of fabric wafted only briefly through the air before settling on the hangar deck. It was an ancient tradition, but one that the Anzati may not be familiar with.

"I issue challenge," he proclaimed, so there was no confusing his intent.

[member="Maokai Bantam"]​

 

[Tiland Kortun]

[member="Maokai Bantam"] @Telok

Tiland wove his way through the assembled students, watching the students, but more importantly, sensing what they were doing. A young Zeltron seemed a little baffled and confused. Tiland paused next to him and contemplated. "Focus on your breath, young Maokai." Tiland said softly. "That will create a flow for you to channel and draw energy from."

An outburst from another student caught his attention and Tiland turned to look at the Noghri. A faint smile twitched beneath his beard, but his face grew grim as the challenger spoke. The old Anzati tilted his head as he listened, one eyebrow slowly rising. "I may be an old man afraid of my emotions, yet you are one losing your temper for not learning anything at a beginner lesson."

As the cloth fluttered to the ground, Tiland let out a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. "I know what such a thing means." He rolled up the sleeves of his robe and strode to a more open area of the hangar deck. "Now, students," Tiland said, addressing the rest of the learners, "As Jedi have a code, smugglers have a code, spies have a code, so do those who have ascribe to the lifestyle of teras kasi. To tear a scrap of cloth and drop it to the ground is a challenge of mastery."

He slipped one foot behind the other and clasped his hands together in front of him. "Telok, is it not? You are the challenger, so set the terms of the challenge."

He eyed the challenger. Noghri were known for their pride and their short temper, as well as their knives. Quite deadly with them, in fact, and had once conquered across the reaches of space. That would do well to emphasize the point of the lesson. Anger was like a thunderstorm. It ruffled and drove the wielder, but would soon blow over, and could not truly be controlled. Only the Lords of the Sith really understood how to maintain a tempered, simmering anger that was easily reached and used whenever necessary. That was after a lifetime of brutal training and torture.

Others? They relied on natural anger and instinct, which was easily controlled and utilized to his advantage in this challenge. Already, Telok revealed his rashness, his eagerness, and the quickness with which he resorted to conflict and violence. If he were to guess, Telok would rush in to seize the attack and strive to control the initiative. The flow, as Tiland was describing it to the students. The way that energy moved within the struggle.

 

[Maokai Bantam]

Mako listened to the words of the master, tired to understand them and breath better? Correctly? He was not sure still how to begin this flow when the challanger emerged. Suffice to say he was now completely distracted by the events unfolding.

One dude was tearing off his cloths and challenging the master to a fight. The master with utmost calm accepted and seemed to relax in to a ready stance.

"Well, training and a show, now this should be educational." He said softly.

[member="Tiland Kortun"] [member="Telok"]

 

[Tatya Zane]

[member="Maokai Bantam"]

“You have no idea,” Jarik murmured to the younger student next to him. The man flexed his shoulders and have a bit of a grin as they cracked, releasing the tension. “This is a test of authority.” His voice was relaxed, calm, but certainly eager. “Pretty rare for things like these nowadays.”

He posed to tighten the cloths wrapped around his wrist and with a final tug, nodded with satisfaction. He clenched and unclenched his fists for a few moments. “If Kortun loses, in teras kasi tradition, he must step aside and abandon any claims to teaching, for he has overestimated his skill.”

The man assessed the two for a moment. “But my money’s on Kortun anyway. Watch how he moves. That’s the flow of energy he’s talking about. Loose and flowing like a river. Goal is to always adjust to the opponent. Not my preferred style, but it’s one I always find myself hard pressed to get past and I’ve been making my way as a fighter clear cross the Outer Rim.”

“Name’s Jarik Creel. Former pro shock boxer. What about you?”

 

[Maokai Bantam]

"Judge Maokai Bantam. Been training before leaving for my first assignment. Figured learning to flow would increase the likelyhood of me living while out there. I'm a damn artist with a shotgun but the baddies are not always nice enough to say at range, so my pops recommends I bone up on my hand to hand."

Bryce looked over at the combat about to take place. "I'll take that action, 20 talons on the new commer then?"

 

[Tatya Zane]

[member="Maokai Bantam"]

Jarik looked the younger man up and down with a confused frown on his face. "Not gonna lie, never meant a Judge on the same side of the bench, if you get my gist. Never known one to fight with a shotgun and fists before." He considered for a moment and then tapped some flat metal disks that hung loosely by his side. "Use these babies when they stay too far away."

He rubbed his chin again and brushed a hand through his hair, considering. "I'll match you that. Might be able to show you a few tricks with the fists if you want at some point. Nothing like this fancy teras kasi stuff, but should keep your teeth where they belong."

The man stepped back, further away from the circle where the two were preparing their bout, and leaned against a crate, arms crossed across his chest. "Ever watched much hand to hand stuff at this kind of level?"

 

[Maokai Bantam]

"No not on this level, had some hand to hand in basic. A little bar brawling here and there, but yes, this is far more advanced than that."

Mako followed suit with Jarik and stepped back before leaning back on a wall.

"What brought you here [member="Jarik Creel"] ? Just looking to increase your skills for the next match, or do I sence a life change comin?"

 

[Quell Rook]

Telok's lips curled in a predatory grin.

"I don't need a weapon to best you old man," the noghri slapped both his forearms, open palms resounding off the wraps tied there, "Your chi against mine."

Emboldened further by the regard [member="Tiland Kortun"] had shown him, the adept showed no sign of confusion at the elder monk's calm and polite demeanor. He would not allow himself to be baited into mind games, there was not a doubt in his mind that Kortun's manners were merely a thin veneer, meant to throw him off his natural rhythms by challenging his preconceptions. His head snaked to the side like a reptile's, and a single visceral snarl was enough to drive the closest students back far enough that there would be room for their bout.

As an academic, there was little doubt in Telok's mind that the anzati he now faced would be well versed in any known Teräs Käsi form he took. Instead, he adopted an obscure stance taught by the Stava masters of his homeworld Honoghr. It was a looser style, his arms raised and swaying with open palms, meant to capitalize on his innate speed and endurance. Käsi likewise favored speed, but it was a striking form and he was confident that Tiland would be thrown off by Stava's emphasis on grappling. Pressure points, nerve pinches, and takedowns that exploited the enemy's own momentum were their hallmark.

 

[Tatya Zane]

[member="Maokai Bantam"]

Jarik nodded as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "Yeah. This will be something else." He ran a hand through his hair and settled more comfortably into what counted as a seat. "Even schockboxing's not on this level. A lot simpler. Much more brutal."

He shrugged at the question and cracked his knuckles absent-mindedly. "Couldn't really say. Been wandering around the Rim a while. Something's been pulling me this way for a while. Not sure what pulled me here and when. So, guess we'll see."

 

[Tiland Kortun]

[member="Telok"]

Tiland raised an eyebrow, but nodded slowly. He clapped his hands across his arms and gave a half-bow. "As you wish." He slipped carefully around the Noghri, boots sliding across the durasteel floor. Only the gentle swish of the soft leather soles made any sound as he circled his opponent.

The form was a different one that he had seen before. Not teras kasi, nor any of the Anzati forms. He suspected it was a Noghri one. As he watched, he slowly tightened the circle, moving ever so slowly closer. Noghri were fast and strong, stronger than many species. One of the few species that could rival his own for their tradition of assassins and warriors.

Which made this form curious. It was fluid, loose and flexible. Not always what the Noghri were known for. Tiland would be wary, at least until he knew more. His eyes stayed locked on the younger martial artist, but his gaze was loose and unfocused.

There were those who preached that one should always watch the hands. Others, the feet. For Tiland, one needed to see the whole picture clearly. Any sign, no matter how small, could be detected by one with the experience. Telok was taking a slower approach, one that his earlier demeanor had not hinted at. If anything, Telok was waiting for him to make the first move.

Yet if he had already demonstrated such impatience, that could be revealed again. All he needed to do was bait him and draw him out. He stopped once he had made a half-circle to the other side and waited.

Relaxed, perhaps even casual, he watched, with a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

 

[Rekha Kaarde]

This was not a place one would expect to find Rekha but here she was among the other students doing her best to listen, and watch.

Control her mind.

That would be difficult she was very much the type of girl that when she saw something of interest tended to wander that way, until the next pretty thing popped up. So..this would be challenging. Balance?

She needed this though something that would give her an edge for defense. Something that she could pull from withing herself.

"ok" she whispered as [member="Tiland Kortun"] gave them all this very severe look of.......grrrrrrrrrrrr...ya know teacher parent kinda of look. She would try not to smile.

Close her eyes....that was hard to do, it was a trust thing...the smile disappeared as chills ran down her spine. Trust...that no one here would do something.

k...nodding...she slowly closed her eyes

[member="Jarik Creel"] | [member="Telok"] | [member="Maokai Bantam"]

 

[Quell Rook]

Telok's lips curled, but not into a smile.

The noghri warrior charged impatiently at [member="Tiland Kortun"]. Casually deflecting his opening strike, the old man used his momentum against him to launch him into a throw. It was a brilliantly executed maneuver, but one he had expecting. Using his species' innate dexterity, he offered no physical resistance to the toss, instead tilting his head down and forward into a somersaulting flip. Wasting no time in recovery, Telok snapped his right leg backwards in a kick aimed for Kortun's midsection. A strong hand gripped his ankle, but the noghri had been half expecting that, so he capitalized on the hold by launching his second leg back in a spinning reverse roundhouse.

That too was deflected. He growled in frustration, kicking off his opponent's hand to dislodge himself from the grapple and rolling forward. He twisted his torso so he was now facing Tiland in a crouch, guard raised, but he needn't have bothered. The old man had yet to make an aggressive move, standing just as calmly as he had been before his opponent's opening gambit. Some part of Telok knew this was a tactic, that his foe was relying on the noghri's passions to get the best of him. Allowing this understanding to burn through him like a wildfire, he resolved to show the warrior monk exactly what harnessed rage could do.

"Fight me you coward!"

Rising to his feet, Telok moved in more slowly this time. His balled fist started to tremor, before began to take on a faint crimson glow. The noghri launched a single punch, but behind it he channeled all his aggression, all his power. Enhanced by the Force, it could not be deflected. Tiland would have to either to dodge or counter.