Private Lost and Found

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Acier Moonbound​

Lorn watched Acier move, noting the tension in his shoulders; a silent fight between control and frustration. The boy's strikes had raw power, too much of it, like he was trying to crush a memory instead of engaging an opponent. When Acier finally stopped, admitting his fear, Lorn deactivated his blade. The golden light dimmed, leaving only the low hum of Acier's saber and the faint crackle of the forge.

He stepped forward, slow and deliberate. "You're not wrong," he said quietly. "It is off. It's supposed to be. You're trying to make something mechanical feel like something lost. That's not instinct, that's grief."

Lorn circled slightly, tapping the edge of Acier's blade with his own inactive hilt. "Form V's foundation is trust. You trust the Force to meet what comes, and you trust yourself to follow through. The arm doesn't change that. You keep trying to command it. Let it move with you instead."

Lorn reignited his saber, gold flashing back to life. "Watch."

He lifted into Djem So's guard again, then flowed through a sequence: block, pivot, counter. Each movement was fluid, anchored in breath rather than muscle. His strikes weren't faster than before, but they carried a rhythm that felt alive. When he stopped, the stillness settled like dust.

"The secret of Form V," Lorn said, lowering his blade, "isn't domination. It's surrender. Surrender to the moment. Every block, every counter, is just listening. The Force moves through you. When you stop trying to prove control, you become it."

He stepped close enough to rest a hand lightly on Acier's prosthetic wrist. "You don't have to feel the same to fight the same. You just have to stop fighting yourself."

Lorn stepped back, igniting his saber once more, the faintest smile curving his mouth. "Now. Again. But this time, stop thinking about what's wrong. Just listen. Let the Force carry the weight." He dropped into stance, blade humming steady. "Trust it. And swing."

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Naboo

Equipment:
Field Gear | Lightsaber | Tic | Cybernetic Arm

Ace's jaw ticked when Lorn confirmed his form was off. He knew already, but hearing it allowed stung the young warrior's pride. But when he continued, Ace watched Lorn, expression curious and focused.

Grief. For a moment, Ace simply pondered on the older Jedi's statement. The word had reframed everything in his mind. Could it be that maybe, his struggle wasn't failure - it was mourning. Mourning the loss of his arm, but also what losing his arm represented? The loss of his former self. The reckless boy who believed he could win anything if he fought hard enough.

He turned to face Lorn when he felt him tap the edge of his hilt. This time, Ace really listened to what the Jedi had to say about Form V. Trust. He claimed that was the Form's foundation. Lorn was right, he was trying to command his new arm. To control everything because his faith in the Force, and himself, had been completely shaken.

However, Ace simply nodded in acknowledgement: he would try.

Then he watched Lorn demonstrate the next sequence. Somehow, he made a Form viewed as aggressive and dominating, look fluid and almost... graceful. It was mesmerizing.

"Surrender..." He echoed, as if testing out a word he'd never of. "With everything that's happened to me, control is the only thing that--" Ace cut himself off "Surrender is hard for someone like me..."

Ace shook the words off, tightening his grip around his lightsaber and exhaling deeply. When he felt the Jedi's hand gently rest on his mechanical wrist, he flinched for a second, jaw tightening as he glared at the ground.

"You just have to stop fighting yourself."

"Okay. Trust it and swing." He repeated as if he were exhaling the words.

His prosthetic hand found his lightsaber again, resting just above his right hand. He took three deep breaths, opening himself up to the Force. It felt different this time. Ace had always felt the Force as a current... something that pushed, pulled, surged. But now? It stretched.

Threads shimmered faintly around him, pulsing when he breathed, trembling from his chest to the world beyond. He reached out, not to command, but to follow... tracing each line as it hummed with memory. The Force wasn't a current to ride; it was a weave, a living tapestry binding every life, every wound, every choice.

For the first time, Ace understood he wasn't meant to bend it to his will, but to learn the pattern it had been weaving through him all along.

Then he moved, the swing came slower this time, deliberate. No strain. No lag. The metal arm flowed where it had once fought, each movement cleaner, quieter. When the blade cut through the air, the sound was sharp and even, not perfect yet, but aligned.

He stopped at the end of the arc, exhaling through his nose. The tension was gone. For the first time since Atrisia, the Force didn't feel like something he had to reach for. It was already there. Ace blinked, glanced at Lorn, and the faintest smile ghosted across his face.

"I think I get what you mean now..."

Lorn Reingard

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Acier Moonbound​

Lorn watched the swing, noting the shift in Acier's stance, the breath before motion, and the way the boy's arm no longer fought against itself. The difference was subtle but unmistakable. The noise in his movements was gone, replaced by quiet intent.

He didn't say anything at first. The silence between them felt earned, the kind that settles after a breakthrough. When Acier's blade finally stilled, Lorn stepped forward, his expression unreadable until the faintest nod broke through. "That's it," he said, voice low. "You stopped trying to make it right. You just let it be."

He circled, studying the young warrior's form. "Form V isn't a contest of strength, Acier. It's balance, dominance through understanding. The moment you stopped fighting the arm, the Force moved again." He paused beside him, his gold saber humming at his side. "You think surrender is weakness. It isn't. It's faith: in yourself, in the Force, in the truth that not everything needs your control to work."

The faintest smirk touched his mouth. "You did good. Most take years to learn that." Lorn then powered down his blade, the golden glow fading. "You'll stumble sometimes. You'll also feel that delay, a hesitation that will live in your heart, not just your arm. Every time you hesitate to trust the current, it'll drag. But when you let go, it'll carry you farther than you ever could've forced your way."

He turned slightly, his gaze flicking toward the far end of the chamber where the forge light flickered against steel walls. "You said surrender's hard for someone like you," he added. "It's hard for all of us. Especially those who've lost too much. But the Force doesn't want your control, Acier. It wants your presence. Meet it there, and you'll never fight alone again."

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: Naboo

Equipment:
Field Gear | Lightsaber | Tic | Cybernetic Arm

Ace didn't move, he just stood there with his lightsaber lowered. He breathed slow through his nose as Lorn's words settled into him. They weren't lecturing, nor did they feel patronizing. Strangely, it felt as if Lorn was saying what the Force had been trying to say for for a while now.

His blade dimmed with a fading hiss as he powered it down. Ace swallowed once, then finally spoke.

"Presence..." He repeated, voice rough but steady. "I… think I forgot what that even feels like."

He wasn't embarrassed admitting it. Not anymore. If Lorn had wanted a perfect student, he would've walked away minutes ago. Instead, the Jedi stayed... patient, warm in his way, a steady gravitational pull Ace didn't realize he needed right now.

He looked down at his prosthetic again. For the first time, he didn't see an absence. He didn't see the moment on the Death Star where everything had gone white and hot and broken. He just saw his hand: different, sure, but still his if he allowed it to be.

"You're right." He murmured. "I've been trying to fight the arm. Fight myself. Fight everything, honestly."

He inhaled deeply, held his breath for a second, and then released.

"I know that I just gotta stop. Smell the roses. I've known for a while. But being present?" He paused, as if contemplating if he really could be "... I think I can do that."

Ace stepped back beside Lorn, the forge light catching his freckled features. He exhaled slowly, letting the release carry through his shoulders, his hands, the tension in his spine.

"Thanks." He said quietly, sincerity threaded through his voice. "For this. For sticking around."

Tic chirped from the workbench, hopping closer until he nudged Ace's boot with the edge of his tiny claw. Ace looked down, then gave a faint snort, nudging the little droid back with the side of his foot. Then Ace looked back at Lorn, his expression was lighter now, but still carried the weight of his spiritual exhaustion.

"I'll keep practicing. Tonight, tomorrow… however long it takes to make the delay disappear. And to--" He hesitated, searching for the right word.
"--meet the Force where it is. Like you said."

Lorn Reingard​

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Acier Moonbound​

Lorn's expression softened as Acier spoke. The boy's voice carried something new this time, an understanding that was fragile, but real. Lorn exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing as he powered down his saber. The golden light faded to silence. He crossed the short distance between them and laid a hand on Acier's shoulder.

"Good," he said simply. "You're starting to get it. But don't mistake clarity for completion." His thumb tapped once against Acier's shoulder. "You're going to fail again. A lot. Shiraya knows I still do." A faint smile ghosted across his mouth, touched with wry self-awareness. "But failure's just the Force reminding us we're still learning. Still alive. Every misstep's part of the pattern, even the ones that break you a little." He stepped back, studying Acier for a moment. "You keep showing up. That's what matters. Trust that the Force has a reason for what it gives and what it takes. You won't always see it right away, but you don't have to."

A brief silence lingered before Lorn's tone shifted, lighter now. "And before you accuse me of giving one too many old man speeches," he added, smirking faintly, "I'll stop. I know you're too cool for Jedi philosophy in bulk doses." He moved toward Tic, who chirped cheerfully as Lorn crouched and held out his datapad. The little droid scanned it with a series of happy beeps. "There," Lorn said, straightening. "If you ever need anything, reach out. Doesn't have to be about the Force. Doesn't even have to be about fighting."

His gaze steadied on Acier, voice firm but kind. "You're not alone in this galaxy, Acier. Not anymore. The baggage you carry doesn't define you. The choices you make now do." He gave a short nod toward the forge's exit. "Now go on. Get some rest before you wear out the floor. I'll be around. The galaxy's big, but not that big."