Private New Recruits... New Friends

[Diarch Rellik]

The shuttle touched down with a muted thrum of repulsors, its landing struts hissing as they met the polished durasteel deck. Banners of the Lilaste Order lined the overhead gantries. Soldiers were already arrayed in formation, boots snapping together as the ramp lowered. Diarch Rellik descended with measured steps, cloak trailing faintly in the hangar's recycled air. He acknowledged the salute with a salute returned in kind. He had come to value the members of the order on many levels. Love ( Iandre Athlea ) Friends ( mooney ) and those who would risk their lives for him in the field of battle Laphisto . So he would treat them with the respect they deserve.

He had come to see his old friend's work firsthand, the new programs, the sharpened directives Laphisto had set in motion across Aurora Station. The mans work in space warfare and defense were the backbone of the Diarchy's survival. The escorting officer gestured him forward, and Rellik set his pace without hurry. The hangar gave way to the main arteries of Aurora Station, broad corridors lined with viewports that offered brief glimpses down to the Diarchy capital of Bastion. The station breathed with life: officers moving briskly to duty posts, technicians hunched over datapads, the faint hum of machinery woven beneath it all. He walked with his hands clasped behind his back, gaze taking in the order of it.

A sound caught his attention as they rounded a junction, sharp impacts, the rhythm of blades clashing against training sabers, punctuated by the grunts of exertion. He slowed, motioning the escort aside. Through the open arch of a training hall, he saw them: recruits, stripped down to practice gear, sweat streaking faces as they pressed through sword drills under the eye of their instructors. Some stumbled, some flowed; all pushed themselves with the stubborn edge of those unwilling to break.

Rellik stepped inside, his boots ringing softly against the deck. The clash of sabers faltered as the recruits noticed him. The instructors snapped to attention, but he raised a hand, a quiet gesture to keep them at ease.

"Don't stop on my account," he said, voice carrying easily through the chamber. His eyes swept across the fresh-faced group. Golden eyes seeming to flicker in the excitement of the room. He moved to the instructors and whispered something in their ears.

""I am Diarch Rellik." He said with a warm smile to those who continued to glance at him between training. "Would any of you like to have a little spar. I would like to see how these new members of the order are fairing."

Cora

 

[Cora]

Sweat dripped down her brow and her chest heaved as she continued to lay strikes against her sparring partner. When the Diarch addressed the room, Cora raised a brow toward him for the split second she had between her next blow. Two more strikes and her opponent was on his knees surrendering. A duel too easily won, she thought as she retracted her saber and extended a hand out to her opponent to help him back to his feet.

She had only ever heard whispers of the Diarchs during her short time on the Station, but never had been in their presence. He was… younger… than she expected for someone in a position of such power. Still, his arrival concerned her. Not only did she have Laphisto breathing down her neck, but now one of the Diarchs was here. This was no coincidence.

Catching her breath, she paced their duelling space a little, contemplating the Diarch’s offer. Was this another test? Then she waved off her sparring partner and turned to face the Diarch. Challenge accepted. She dipped her head and gazed up at him with her piercing silver eye narrowing. A grin stretched across her pale face.

“Oh, Mighty Diarch,” She curtsied at him, a sarcastic gesture that gave away her defiance toward authority. “I’d be honoured to defeat you in duel.” Then she ignited her scarlet saber and brought it into first position. Expression unwavering. Your move.

Diarch Rellik

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik's golden eyes narrowed faintly, not in disapproval but with a smug glee at the challenger. The curtsy, the grin, the silver eye glinting with defiance, it was all so uncharacteristic of the Lilaste's usually tempered demeanor. He liked it.

Amusement flickered over his features, lightening the weight of his presence. "Unusual," he said, voice carrying enough for the room to hear. "The Order breeds discipline. Laphisto drills precision into his recruits. But you" his gaze lingered on her with a spark of warmth "you carry some wit. Nerve. A little rebellion."

The words weren't a rebuke. They sounded approving. With a slow motion he removed his spear and took off his cloak. Leaving himself only in his beige tunic with a Nyxxweave under-lay.

He drew Conviction from his belt, the golden blade igniting with a sharp hiss. Rather than settle into a rigid stance, he let it circle lightly at his side, as though this duel was less about domination and more about play.

"A kindred spirit, perhaps. Let's see how well that spirit serves you when the blade is in motion."

With a graceful step, he angled into range, his opening cut deliberately modest, light and probing, not meant to overwhelm, but to invite her forward, to test whether her daring matched her words.

INVENTORY:

• Single bladed Lightsaber - Conviction
• The Blooded Seer Cloak
• Spear of the Star-Fallen King

Cora

 

[mooney]

Moony lingered in the background, silent as ever.

From where she sat, idly picking at a ration bar it was disgusting, her ears twitched at the familiar rhythm of boots scuffing the training mats. She tilted her head just enough to glance toward the open sparring ring. Two figures stood facing off a familiar one, Cora, someone Laphisto had recently brought into their fold. The other? A stranger in her eyes, though the whispers called them a Diarch. She'd heard the term before, in passing… but never cared enough to learn more.

Moony seemed disinterested at first. Her posture was relaxed, almost bored. Yet she didn't leave. She stayed nearby, loitering with that quiet presence of hers, not quite a part of the gathering but not apart from it, either.

She stretched languidly, tail curling behind her, her sharp gaze briefly narrowing on Cora. Was this… their way of bonding? Building trust through bruises and sweat?

She didn't understand it, not yet. But she was trying. And so, without a word, she watched, She always watched.

Diarch Rellik Cora

 

[Cora]

Cora let out a low snarl at the Diarch as he ignited his blade, wide grin still plastered over her features but now showing teeth. Her eye looked him up and down, sizing him up for battle. When he didn’t take a stance, she stepped out of her practiced one. This wasn’t going to be like a regular training drill, that was for sure.

Adjusting her footing, she lowered and widened her stance, pulled her saber to her side and brought her free arm in front of her body. It was a much more raw stance that she had adopted since leaving the Jedi, and not one taught by the Lilaste Order.

As he stepped into her space and probed at her with his saber, she gently deflected it away. So it was a test. There was a pause. He was waiting for her to make the real first move. She twirled her saber in her grip and cocked her head to the side.

He left her an opening. It was purposeful, she knew. But it was an opening all the same, and she wasn’t going to not take it. She lunged in and feigned a blow to the right, but tipped it to the left instead at the last second. It was an easy strike to block, but that’s what she was counting on.


Diarch Rellik

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Her feint was sharper than expected, the sudden red tilt nearly slipping through his guard. Rellik's eyes flashed, and he had to draw on the Force to snap Conviction up faster than his hand alone could manage. The curved songsteel metal caught her blade with a hiss. Instead of his blade, he was glad that his sabers hilt could manage such an attack.

Smug amusement flickered into something fiercer. With the combat in quick fluid motion now Rellik decided to meet her flourish with brute force. Rellik shifted his weight and drove his left hand forward, aiming a sharp punch toward her stomach to break her momentum and test her footing.

Cora

 

[Cora]

A wide grin flashed across her face as her opponent seemed to be taken by surprise by her initial strike. It quickly disappeared as his fist connected with her abdomen. On impact she staggered a step backward and a short grunt escaped her. That wasn’t the counter she was expecting him to make, but she could make it work.

Using the momentum of the strike, she pivoted fluidly, the motion carrying her into a vicious follow-up. Her free hand lashed out, the Force surging through her muscles to drive the blow with unnatural strength. In the same heartbeat, her saber arm swept down in a horizontal slash, the blade hissing as it carved through the air toward its mark. Her other hand, once aimed at a backhand strike, now shot forward with sudden precision, fingers curling into the folds of Rellik’s robe seeking to seize and wrench him closer, dragging him into the deadly range of her assault.

Diarch Rellik

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik didn't fight the yank. He let her hand find purchase and used the momentum, stepping in hard. His arm swept low and then high, locking her in an over-under clinch that pressed them chest-to-chest. The bind pinned her saber arm tight against his side, leaving the blade snarling harmlessly at the air.

For an instant his golden eyes gleamed at her, the grin back on his face. The Force surged through him, amplifying the hold, turning muscle and motion into an unshakable grip.

Then he bent his knees, his cloak flared, weight coiling beneath him. The floor hummed as he drew in the Force, preparing to drive them both upward in a violent launch toward the ceiling of the training hall.

Cora