Private Noble Pursuits

[Makko Vyres]

"Makko, pay attention."

Makko ran the tips of his fingers across a scar in the wall. This level was more plain than other areas of the temple, no decorations on the walls and tiles with a paint job as old as the stones. Now he knew why: jedi would duel with real lightsaber down here.

"Makko!"

He turned abruptly to see Jedi Master Ly'Sard and the small group of padawans watching him. The Jedi masters sighed.

Makko turned back towards the wall and rolled his eyes. The Jedi Master turned towards her very favourite student - Corazona von Ascania - and gave an exasperated shake of her head.

"Pay attention. We are going to be moving on to full sparring today and you could all get injured if you do not listen and focus," she said as Makko rejoined the group.

"We are going to be breaking into pairs and doing our five-step sparring routine. Take turns being the attacker and the defender."

The routines were simple, mock attack and defense sequences of five steps to teach the students some basic movements face to face.

"If I feel you do this well I will allow some limited, free sparring. The training sabers do sting if they strike, so we will be avoiding blows to the head for today."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Heh.

Cora couldn't help a smug smile from creeping onto her face as Makko was reprimanded. She was less than enthused that they were apart of the same training session, having gone out of her way to avoid the Denonite ever since their mission in the jungle had concluded.

Still, her gaze had been tracing the same score along the wall. The marks inflicted on the dense stone paneling looked as if they'd been here for eons. Idly, she wondered how many great Jedi had trained here, and if they'd left any distinct markings behind.

Snapped from her reprieve, she mirrored Master Ly'Sard's disappointed nod, perhaps with the knowledge that Makko would dislike the gesture. Cora had to remind herself not to let him get in the way of her training.

Even as she found himself standing across from him, training saber in hand. Her upper lip curled into a snarl, and she briefly considered asking the supervising Master for a different partner. Anyone but the crude jerk from Denon. That had the chance of making herself look bad, she begrudgingly reasoned—and the Ly'Sard was liable to stick to her initial decision.

With her thumb brushing the ignition, the training saber thrummed to life and Cora assumed an offensive position. Gripping the weapon with both hands, she held it aloft, angled towards Makko.

"Ready yourself."

Cora had to physically restrain herself from surging forward.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

Makko was slow to take up a position in front of her. Not because he was reticent to fight Cora, but because he was still thinking about everything they had tried to teach him.

Where to place his feet, how to shift his weight, keeping his shoulders level and fifty other things.

He didn't like how keen Cora looked. Whilst she had actively avoided him since the jungle excursions - hiding from the reality of what had happened as much as Makko's attitude - he hadn't gone out of his way to wind her up.

"Just the five steps right?" he asked, trying to go through them on his head. High block, a step back and sweeping wide block, counter thrust and step forwards, parries to left and right.

"Can you...go slow to start?"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora's teeth chewed at the inside of her cheek. Nary a crude comment had been spoken, and in fact, Makko seemed more focused on the lesson than teasing her. That didn't mean that she wasn't already irritated.

Still, she was surprised that he'd elected to stay within the Jedi Order—at least for the time being. Makko didn't seem like the type who was cut out for a more monastic life, and she still wasn't sure if he belonged here.

"Fine." She answered curtly. Cora didn't look at him, not in the eyes at least.

She pressed forward, sweeping her saber in a wide arc from above with more force than was necessary.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

Makko still wasn't even holding his lightsaber with proper form. The sabers collided with an angry hiss and he felt the impact run right down from his arms to his shoulders.

His face was suddenly a mask of frustration. He had been so talented at many things in his life. Intimidation, slicing, things he had shown Cora and holding his nerve in desperate situations.

Here he struggled to use this mysterious Force and he didn't have the discipline for saber lessons.

His swing into the next block was clumsy too and his feelings of frustration were quickly being displaced in Cora's direction.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Makko's irritation was plain to see—and feel. Cora would be lying if she said that it didn't feel good to frustrate him as some sort of payback for their jungle excursion.

Guilt still crept in the back of her mind, though. Her shame hadn't been his fault, not entirely, and yet she reveled in taking it out on him.

The blonde audibly tsked at the poor form of his next block, holding back a snide comment. It was clear that Cora had the upper hand here; she'd been fencing since she was a child and some of those lessons had transferred to saber play.

She awaited his counter thrust, brows quirked as if to say; Well?

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

It was the little sound she made under her breath that got to him. It was if his temper was a lute string through his very center and she had just plucked it roughly.

Makko's riposte was a crude imitation of the book-form the novices were supposed to follow in the 5-step sparring. He threw his weight behind it, from the shoulder and with a twist of the hips. There were little diagrams of pairs of padawans learning this five steps and none looked like Makko.

Even if he achieved some semblance of satisfaction in knocking the saber from her hands, he wasn't thinking of what would follow the warm up routine.

Free sparring.

Once the routine was done and they went back to starting positions, she would be given the opportunity to demonstrate exactly how far behind him she was by going on a free attack. Every weakness in his defense could be exposed and every strike to the body would give him a nasty jolt.

He growled in frustration, a noise not unlike one she had heard before. This was only step three and he was already losing his balance.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora grunted as Makko shifted his weight into the follow up strike—more than was necessary, if she had anything to say about it. The amount of force was unexpected, and Cora's breath hitched in surprise when she lost her grip on the training saber.

Anger prickled at the back of her neck when the hilt clattered to the ground. It returned to her grasp with a wave of her hand, perhaps a little quicker than was necessary.

She could feel the supervising Master's eyes on them, and it was almost enough to put a damper on the thoughts of revenge swelling in her mind. She was supposed to attack him, right? She couldn't be faulted if she tried to push him to his limits.

Cora twirled her saber in a fluoroish that was absolutely meant to show off her superior control. The blonde had been fencing since a young age, and she'd been with the Order longer than Makko had—not by a wide margin, though.

When he was ready, Cora struck at Makko, probing his defenses with a series of jabs and slashes. His frustration was palpable as he put forth a clumsy defense, and each strike inflated Cora's pride.

Until their sabers crossed and their eyes naturally locked.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

He was already irritated and frustrated by his inability to do this well. Her little flourish was like nails down a chalkboard. It was highlighting how easy this came to her.

He bet that in Cora's mind that was because she was special because of her superior genetics and high station. Makko wanted to bring her down a leg or two and his stubborn resolve wouldn't let him acknowledge how slim that chance was.

He pushed himself into every defensive move, over extending himself and moving his balance offcenter time and again. It felt good to meet each strike, but Makko was wasting energy.

Their blades locked. Even with training sabers they hissed and screeched against one another. Makko didn't hear that, he heard them both breathing hard and fast. He saw the confidence in her eyes.

Makko growled as he used his size to shove her back. He hoped to create an opening. However the shove meant his saber was down low and as he lifted it back up he was left entirely open.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Confidence displaced her swelling need for revenge with each strike. Even though he'd intercepted her at every turn, Cora could feel the lack of familiarity in his movements. She held the upper hand, she had put in the effort to learn, spent countless hours practicing. Perhaps it was lost on Cora that she'd had the privilege to dedicate such time to martial pursuits in the first place.

Confidence easily lead to arrogance, and Cora yelped in surprise and irritation when Makko knocked her away. Though untrained, he was tenacious—she wouldn't put it past him to pull out a knife on her.

Makko managed to send her back several paces, and Cora was quick to send him a biting glare. That was when she'd made the decision to put the ruffian in his place.

Surging forward, she assailed Makko with a flurry of strikes, aiming to pressure him until his back was to the wall.

She wouldn't let him get the best of her. Not again.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

His ignorance gave him an unearned confidence. Having the strength to shove her back and a few blocks in his arsenal made him think he could keep up.

Makko was at the stage where he didn't even know the gap in skill. That would come next, followed by understanding how to try and close it. Assuming that he could pay attention to some of his lessons. Ignorance was bliss.

It was bliss until it struck Makko that he was back-pedalling, that she was moving faster than he could swing his torso to ferociously block.

She slipped through his guard. A strike to his shoulder that stung enough to make him drop his saber. It snapped off as it fell from his grip. Then, as he tried to back out of her reach he took another blow to the hip.

Makko fell onto his backside, hands out behind him.

"Fuck!" he hissed in pain, looking up at Cora's triumphant expression.

"Makko!" came a warning call from their instructor.

Makko sat forwards and made a fist. He didn't hear Master Ly'sard. He pulled back his fist.

He slammed it into the ground between his knees. A crack rang out around the hall. A shard ripple, like a single thunderclap, rang out through the Force. The stone slab beneath him was cracked in half. He looked down at his own hand in shock.

"Makko. Take a breath. Calm yourself. And then you will be leaving the lesson."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Makko's frustration was palpable as Cora began to attack him in earnest. Each swing of her saber wasn't a test to see what he could do, nor was it an attempt to push him to be better.

This was a punishment to satisfy her own ego; to make Cora feel better about herself.

Before she knew it, the blonde was lording herself above him, the tip of her blade pointed at his neck.

How does it feel, She could almost hear herself say, to be backed into a corner?

Cora's heart leapt when the Master called out to them, triumph dissolving as she quickly withdrew her blade. An unpleasant sensation of guilt twisted in her core as she looked down at Makko, defeated on the ground.

When he reeled back a fist, she scampered to the side then stiffened in surprise as a crack scored through the stone floor beneath his hand.

Even those locked in their own nearby duels had been startled into hesitation. For her part, Cora stared at Makko with a mixture of shock and shame. She'd let her feelings get the better of her, and now…

Instead of an apology, she swallowed thickly and looked away.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

Makko opened his hand slowly, expecting to feel intense pain. The stone couldn't have cracked without doing the same to his bones.

It barely hurt. There were no red marks, his fingers weren't broken. He would try and work that out later.

He looked up at the Jedi Master. There was no judgement there, something he found even more frustrating. He was used to being put in his place.

He didn't look at Cora, because he saw her deliberately look away out of the corner of his eye.

Was this some form of revenge for her? She'd put him back in his place and that would be enough for her.

Makko did not apologise either. He stood slowly, picking up his training lightsaber on the way. He didn't look at Cora as he strode over to the master and handed over the chrome hilt.

"Back to your room and wait for me," she said. Her gaze passed from Makko to the crack in the floor.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

---​

Cora was careful to avoid Makko in the weeks that followed their training mishap. That didn't mean that the incident had slipped her mind entirely—in fact, she'd replayed it more than was comfortable. Though she'd found him irritating, her triumph at besting him had turned to shame. Cora still wasn't sure if she felt so guilty because she'd cause him so much frustration, or simply because she'd let her her need for revenge win over keeping a cool head.

The railspeeder was crowded, but it was the only one that would make it back to the temple before nightfall. Something about construction on one of the more direct routes, and Cora begrudgingly accepted that her shopping trip would be capped off with a rather long ride.

"Excuse—ahem, if I could just—"

Armed with several bags of purchases—mostly gifts for her family and a "few" items of clothing for herself—Cora awkwardly wormed her way through the packed train car. She'd very rarely taken public transit before, and was feeling a bit stifled by the sheer amount of sentients that had managed to pack onto one vehicle.

Finally, she managed to find salvation in the form of an empty seat. It was small, and she managed to squeeze in while placing her bags on the floor with a relieved sigh. To her right, a mother holding a fussy child. Despite the noise Cora couldn't help but smile, reminded of her own baby brother back on Ukatis.

To her left—

Oh hell.

The smile evaporated.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

Makko was bumped into the other passengers as the rail car rounded a sharp corner. It had taken a route down into the lower levels of Coruscant, which was why it was full and why the track was noisy and rough.

He liked this line because it took him away from the temple and upper class surface regions of Coruscant where he felt out of place. Makko had been feeling isolated even within the Jedi Order. Since losing his temper and channeling that anger into the Force he had mostly been taught alone.

He hadn't been allowed to swing a lightsaber at someone again. Ly'sarn - perhaps more in touch with the younger trainees and their feelings than she let on - had also kept him from sharing any class with Cora.

He spotted Cora a moment after she saw him. Makko kept a hand on the pole and turned to look back at her he looked down at the bags, back up and rolled his eyes at her.

What was she doing on a train?

Makko smirked, remembering the recording he had backed up in three seperate data stores. Just to be safe. The memory amused him, but he also tried to deny the pang of jealousy that she spent her time socialising in different circles to his own.

The train started to slow. He decided to get off at the next stop and catch the following train. When it stopped he realised they were still in the middle of a dingy residential district and not at a platform.

"Guess you don't get delays like this when you take the air taxi," he muttered under his breath. The comment was clearly directed at Cora, though she might just have heard it.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

She'd heard him. As much as she was trying to avoid him, Cora's senses honed in on Makko. Especially when he'd rolled his eyes at her before turning away.

Cora could only huff in response. Suddenly, the crying baby had gone from making her homesick to grating on her nerves. Her awareness heightened, and there were too many people around. Was it even safe to fit this many sentiments on one train car? How could anyone breathe in here? Was the air getting stuffier? Was that why it was becoming more difficult to breathe? Anxiety flared as the seconds ticked by, and a feeling of dread had clawed its way into Cora's stomach.

No one on the train seemed particularly concerned about the delay, aside from a few disgruntled mumbles about being late. Cora's hand went to her stomach, trying to calm the unpleasant twisting that almost seemed urgent. Was she about to be si—

A blast ripped through the far end of the car, ending several lives and scattering Cora's shopping bags to the wind.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

Makko was thrown back into the people behind him. He kept his grip on the pole and managed to stay upright. Everyone else would have been floored, had they not been packed so tightly into the carriage that they held one another up.

He stared down the train. Panic was like a ripple. Audible, detectible through the Force. It wasn't an accident. There were loud voices down there.

Makko was frozen to the spot. Was it a terrorist incident? Was the entire train about to go up and send him from this world in the blink of an eye.

His knuckles went white as he gripped the pole. The world seemed to slow around him. Someone jostled him to try and push past. Makko knew the real danger; he'd seen it before. People would panic and run and crush one another.

Makko took a breath. The Jedi code didn't matter. He had to pull himself together and act or else people would die. He would die.

Makko used the Force to make space. Not by pushing people, but by touching their minds and easing his passage through a group. It was something he had down since picking pockets on Denon. Makko smashed the glass box around the emergency door released and yanked it. They hissed and opened. A small drop to the street below but better than this.

"Cora, help me get people off the train!" he shouted.

Then he realised that he wasn't the only person shouting her name.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora's ears were ringing. She'd been spared the lethal end of the blast, only having been jostled roughly in her seat.

Much like Makko, she was stunned at first. Unlike Makko, she did not move until he'd called out for her to help. Perhaps later, she'd reflect on his choice to assist the passengers rather than making a break for it, and her own inability to act until pressured.

Smoke clouded the train car and suddenly she was moving, escorting the woman and her child to the emergency exit. The nausea and anxiety she'd been feeling had been part claustrophobia, part danger sense. Adrenaline kept the worst of it at bay.

"Here—you go first, let me take him." Cora coaxed the wailing toddler into her arms, bouncing him out of reflex while Makko helped his mother down the short drop to the street below. When her feet had been firmly planted on the ground, Cora knelt to lower the squirming baby into his mother's waiting arms.

No sooner had the child been delivered was she yanked back roughly.

"Hey!-" Cora yelped, twisting around to meet a masked man, who'd been brandishing a rifle in his other hand. Frozen in fear, Cora's heart beat wildly in her throat when he grunted into a comlink and tugged her along.

"I've got the brat, let's-"

Running on pure instinct, Cora realized what was happening and acted all at once. The Force pulsed around her, and she shoved the man back in panic. While she wouldn't have been able to break his grasp with her strength alone, her panicked use of the Force sent him flying back, crashing against the opposite wall.

Makko Vyres

 

[Makko Vyres]

There was confusion and panic on the street. People had come out of their tower blocks to see what the noise was and the passengers had already formed a crowd in the street.

He tried to urge people to start moving away from the train without panicking. Groups of people were remarkably stupid. It was just the way of things.

Cora's cry didn't even register with Makko for a moment over the noises around him. His sharp turn towards her was when the Force tugged at his awareness, something he would realise later.

"Hey!" Makko shouted as he climbed back up into the train carriage. He didn't hesitate to shoulder charge a second man running for Cora, catching him off guard and knocking him to the floor.

He barely had time to look down the train before a third kidnapper slammed into him. His world span, he felt a flash of pain at the back of his skull.

This wasn't a carefully orchestrated fencing duel. This was a scrap. Makko wrapped his arms around his attacker's head, pulling it into his chest as his feet flailed to find purchase. He was struck over the head several times, but held fast.

The man shouted muffled words into his chest. They might have been: 'get the girl.'

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

With chaos mounting around her, Cora stood frozen. Arms out, palms facing the direction in which she'd thrown the man with the Force, she could only gawk in place. She'd always been told that the Force needed to be manipulated carefully, and now she knew why. Unrestrained use could result in disaster, and fortunately in this case it had only amounted to an unconscious kidnapper.

She caught the second man gunning for her from the corner of her eye, and even the shock of adrenaline that coursed through her stomach wasn't enough to get her moving.

Then, Makko tackled him to the ground. Cora jolted and backed away, uncertain of what had just happened and what she should do. Her instincts told her to run while the man was distracted, and perhaps she almost did. Until he'd struck Makko in the head and she winced.

The scuffle was joined by a third masked man, who attempted to remove Makko's hold on his partner. While their focus was elsewhere, Cora finally found the will to act. Looking around frantically, she spotted a hand rail that had been nearly blown from its hinges in the blast. With two hands, a lot of grunting and a little space magic assist, she managed to wrest it free. Stumbling back from the weight of her efforts, she charged the man who'd been trying to grapple Makko.

Reeling her makeshift weapon back, she swung it at his head. The bandit lurched and turned to her with an angry grunt, cradling his head with one hand, reaching for something in his pocket with the other.

Cora stood, cheeks puffed in defiance as she drew her arms back for another swing. The next thing she knew, her muscles seized as a non-lethal dose of electricity course through her body. The bludgeon slipped from her grasp and landed on the ground with a metallic clatter, and Cora slumped to the floor along with it.

Makko Vyres