Faction THR - The Space between Strikes - Self Defense Class (Open to Jedi and Military)

[Connel Vanagor]

THE SPACE BETWEEN STRIKES
Naboo
Jedi Temple

Companions/Droids Every Day Gear Locations

• COMPANIONS / DROIDS
  
  • Wife (eventually) (\"Lira Voss[Vanagor]\")
  • Gallinorese Mountain Aak Dog (\"Buster\")
  • BB4-80 (\"Brad\")
  • B5-55
  [Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
• 
  Rides
  
  • "Enterprise" Station Ship
  • "Jedi Defender" Corvette
  • X-wing
  • Speeder
  • Speederbike
  • Iron Psalm
  Gear
  
  • When in Regular Robes/Gear
    • Lightsaber
    • 5 Throwing Lightknives
  • Headset Microphone Comm-Link
  SURGICAL - CRYBERNETIC IMPLANTS
  
  • Repli Implants that would be for the limbs
  • Bonemer enhancements to strengthen structure of the body
  • Muscle enhancements.
  • Hemo enhancements for blood flow
  • Hawkeye implants for eyes
  • Advanced Medical Implant
  • Scentzy
  • Injected Nanotech upgrades
  
  
  
• Shadow Sanctuary - Enterprise

He sat quietly in the middle of the open air atrium. It was a beautiful, clear day above, but he sat quietly, meditating.

Or trying to… I suck at this…

For him, it felt like holding hot water in his hands.

Training droids stood dormant along the perimeter, draped in neutral coverings like statues waiting to remember they were weapons. Anyone who had known Caltin Vanagor would recognize the touch immediately. Practical. Ready. No wasted space, no wasted purpose. A legacy, quiet but present. Along the far edge, low tables held simple refreshments. Fresh-cut fruit, pitchers of juice, water set within easy reach. Not indulgent. Intentional. Fuel, not comfort.

You’re going to work… and I’m not going to let you burn out doing it.

Mats were laid in clean rows across the stone floor. Not for sparring. Not yet.

For listening, choosing, this mattered more.

They were starting to file in. Footsteps that were soft at first then there were more. The atrium began to fill ever so slowly, some wondering if they were in the right room. After all, the freak who looked like he wanted to punch everyone was sitting up front. Some were excited, some were scared.

He didn’t look up right away, just sat there listening. He didn’t get up to meet them, didn’t need to. He could already tell which ones would swing first. He could also tell which ones would hesitate. Some of them were here for the wrong reasons, he knew already.

Yeah… this is going to be interesting.

Only then did he open his eyes.

Slowly.

If you are here to learn how to win a fight, you are in the wrong room.

TAGS • TAGS
[Text in Brackets is spoken on Comm-link] ~Like this is through the Force~​

 

[Novac Lyrikal]

novac sat towards the back. coiled into a little pile, sitting on himself. a hk-87 droid stood motionless behind him with a electro-staff. he had brought this droid since it was his own and could be used instead of the training droids here. besides, it might learn something to. probably not since it was a old assassin droid novac reprogramed, it already knew plenty. novac knew there where always more to learn when it cam to self defense. with his body shapee he also knew there where more ways to defend himself. his length and height where sort of problems when it came to self defense, lost more to defend. smaller opponents aswell proved a annoyance. he was happy to be here and learn more, whatever it is he will learn.

 

[Warren of the Narrows]

Naboo was having another gorgeous day, the scent of summer flowers and various foods from the mess hall carried across the breeze. Warren had been assigned to a class with some of the other Padawans. Nothing new for him, he had been getting used to the schedule the Temple laid out for him. He still hadn't found a new Master, but he wasn't discouraged anymore. The Selonian had spent a lot of his time studying and meeting other Padawans. He hadn't really made any new friends yet, but he wasn't nearly as scared of them anymore. There was still a part of him that stayed guarded, but it wasn't as suffocating as it used to be.

Stepping up the stone staircase that led to the atrium their class was in, Warren took in another deep breath of that sweet Naboo air, letting it sit for just a moment before exhaling. He knew that when he got in the room and started training, it was likely going to smell like sweat. There were a lot of Humans in his classes, and they all sweat, something Warren didn't do. It was a smell that the young Jedi still had not grown accustomed to, something sharp and heavy that always seemed to linger.

Filing in with the rest of the students, Warren took a seat toward the back of the class. He knew that with his size, if he sat in the front, he would likely block the view for other Padawans. He didn't mind sitting in the back, in fact, he preferred it. The Jedi was not a fan of attention in any sense of the word. He sat down, gathering his robes at his side while waiting for the class to start, his tail curling in closer without much thought. He looked over and saw Novac, at least there was one familiar face...or whatever Thisspiasians had.

Settling into the seat on the floor, Warren watched as the instructor started, noting a couple of the students stir when he said they were in the wrong place. He wasn't sure what they were thinking, even he knew what self defense meant and he was awful at Basic. Still, something about the way it was said made his ears twitch slightly, his attention sharpening just a bit more than before.

Tag: Novac Lyrikal Connel Vanagor
Location: Jedi Temple, Naboo
Objective: Self Defense

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

PERSONAL FLIGHT LOG – Entry #8675309 (haha!)
Location: – Naboo (more on that in a minute!_=))
Assigned Craft: My X-wing
Astromech Partner: BRED (BB-30)
Current Mood: Pretty good actually.
Background Noise: I can’t hear anything over the spherical Diva.

Hi! Remember me? It’s been awhile since I’ve been here!

“Wooo-beeep.” [Translation: Did Connel make you a Red & Black suit or something?.]

Naw, but he DID ask me if I would come to this class of his. He said it would be good for me. Make me humble.

“Weeep-bwoo.” [Translation: Yeah, like that’ll happen.]

Oh shut up! He’s right. I need to do a little something outside the box that is a cockpit. So I’m here. Weird though, the way I left and all, figured I’d get some grief. I didn't want to make too much noise so I just sat there in the back. It’s so weird though, as I sat and thought about being here, I thought about being in my ship. Flying, and being free… like a flock of seagulls…

“Chrrp.” [Translation: Like WHAT?]

Cawww

– Michael A.
I’m no merc, but I got a mouth!

TAG: Open

This is where he is speaking

 

[Xian Xiao]

Xian did not come in with the first group. She lingered just outside the atrium longer than she needed to, standing where the sunlight broke across the stone, and the softened echoes of the class drifted outward. Where the voices layered over one another, the shuffle of feet, the faint hum of people gathering into something structured. It should have felt familiar in the way routine things often do, but instead it carried an edge that made her hesitate rather than step forward without thought, as if the familiarity itself had shifted into something she no longer knew how to trust.

Her arms rested loosely across her midsection. Not closed off, just contained, as though she were holding something steady long enough to decide what to do with it. Solon's presence beside her helped more than she would ever admit, not because it erased the tension, but because it kept it from hardening into something heavier. He was there, steady and real, not something she had lost or misjudged or been forced to let go of, and that alone made the threshold feel a little less impossible.

"Still time to leave," she murmured, the words shaped more out of habit than intention, a reflexive defense she no longer fully believed.

She let out a slow breath, then pushed away from the wall before she could reconsider. "Come on."

When she stepped inside, she didn't hesitate, but she didn't announce herself either. Her gaze swept the room with the same instinctive awareness she brought to everything else: mats laid in careful rows, droids standing dormant like silent promises of what would come later, students filtering into place with varying degrees of confidence and uncertainty. And then her eyes found him.

Recognition came first, immediate and unavoidable, followed by something quieter and more complicated that she didn't name. She had met him once before, back when things had still felt simpler. Back when Caelan had been there, where they had stepped into spaces like this, it hadn't carried the same weight of memory or absence. For a moment, that memory pressed forward whether she wanted it to or not: Caelan's presence, the way he occupied space so easily, the quiet certainty he carried without needing to prove it, the way she had stood beside him without questioning where she belonged.

That version of her felt distant now, gone in the same quiet way he was.

Her expression didn't change, but something in her gaze steadied, as if she needed to anchor herself before moving again. Then she did.

Xian chose a place along the side. Not at the front where attention gathered, not at the back where disappearing was effortless, but somewhere in between, where she could see everything without being immediately seen. She gave Solon a brief glance, a silent invitation for him to take the space beside her or somewhere nearby, and then lowered herself to the mat with a controlled, unhurried motion.

Her posture settled into something that looked relaxed but wasn't careless; her hands rested lightly against her knees, her shoulders loose, her breathing even, while her attention remained sharp beneath it all.

Then she listened.

If you are here to learn how to win a fight, you are in the wrong room.

The words reached her and stayed, not bouncing off or dismissed, but absorbed and turned over in the quiet space she reserved for things that mattered. A different reaction might have come from her before Rellik, before Caelan, before the slow unraveling of things she had believed were solid. Now, the statement didn't challenge her or reassure her; it simply fit, in a way that made her uneasy because it felt closer to the truth than she expected.

Her fingers shifted slightly against her knee, grounding herself as the weight of memory settled in without overwhelming her. Rellik's absence was still there, quieter than it had been at first but no less present, like a missing piece she kept reaching for without realizing it. Caelan's absence felt different. Sharper in some moments and softer in others, but no easier to carry when it surfaced.

Trust had not survived either of them intact. Not trust in Masters. Not in systems. Not in the idea that someone else would always be there to guide her through what she didn't understand.

Her gaze remained forward, steady and watchful, but no longer searching for direction in the same way. She wasn't here for a Master. She wasn't here for doctrine. She wasn't even certain she was here to learn in the way this place intended.

But she had come anyway, and that meant something, even if she hadn't decided what yet.

Xian let the silence settle around her, her presence calm on the surface while something deeper stayed coiled beneath it—thoughtful, guarded, unwilling to lower itself completely yet not entirely closed either. She didn't look away, didn't retreat into herself, and didn't pretend to be something she wasn't.

She simply remained where she was, balanced somewhere between who she had been and who she was trying to become, listening with the kind of attention that came not from trust, but from the quiet decision to keep going anyway.

Michael Angellus Warren of the Narrows Novac Lyrikal Connel Vanagor

 

[Noriko Ike]

Noriko was moving, she had heard tell about the class and chance to see. She was also bored while she stretched and roamed around. Herr saber staff on her hip while she was moving in her body armor and she she walked with a few others going into the room. "Chillin' out with the crew in the temple yard, findin' trouble, never lookin' too hard." She looked at her makie droid as it was on her shoulder and gave an exasperated beep. "Well back at class, they never taught us this, Some things you gotta learn, hit or miss." She was moving with it as some fo the jedi with her looked but she bounced in her walking. "Tough times, hard climbs, we'll take 'em on together." She looked as Connel spoke aand offered a nod of her head. "Alright, let's go!"

 

[Ivy Maro]

Noriko Ike Xian Xiao Michael Angellus Warren of the Narrows Novac Lyrikal Connel Vanagor

​

Self defense, eh? One of those "continuing education" classes Ivy didn't think she needed but "just in case" she might learn something new. The class was a bit of an odd mix of Jedi and non-Jedi types. A snake, an otter, a couple of hot chicks and a guy she might've seen around the hangar once.

She assumed they weren't going to be using any lightsabers today against those helpless non-Force sensitives. Ah, martial arts then. Ivy cracked her knuckles and stretched her neck in ready anticipation, beaming an innocent smile at those around. Maybe she'd go easy on them, maybe she wouldn't. Were Force powers allowed though?

For now, Ivy held back her questions, waiting for the teacher to begin. She raised an eyebrow at Connel's opening statement, internally rolling her eyes at the big guy's show of intimidation which, being shorter and smaller than most of her peers, Ivy was most definitely sensitive to.
​

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Learn what Solon is capable of
Location: Jedi Temple, Naboo
Outfit: Robes
Tags: OPEN | Xian Xiao

Solon had almost turned around twice before they crossed the threshold.

Not because Xian had suggested it — though her murmured still time to leave had struck him as dangerously reasonable — but because classes like this carried a particular kind of dread that had nothing to do with actual combat and everything to do with being seen failing in front of strangers.

He was not built for public failure. Private failure? Excellent at it. Seasoned, even. Publicly, however, there were expectations. Jedi robes created expectations. Walking into a room full of other students who looked as though they belonged in training spaces created expectations. Walking into a room where the instructor appeared as if he had personally strangled several bad decisions before breakfast created even more expectations.

Solon followed Xian in anyway. Mostly because she had come. That was reason enough. He stayed half a pace behind her until she selected a place along the side, neither hidden nor conspicuous, and when she lowered herself to the mat he copied her with all the solemn dignity of someone pretending he had done this sort of thing many times before.

He had not. One knee folded correctly. The other did something less cooperative. There was an awkward adjustment of robes, limbs, and personal pride before he finally settled beside her with what he hoped looked intentional and not at all like a man discovering in real time that his body had joints he had never formally negotiated with.

Solon folded his hands in his lap. Unfolded them. Folded them again. Too stiff. He tried resting them on his knees the way several of the more composed students seemed to be doing. Yes. Better. More enlightened. Less like he was awaiting sentencing.

His eyes slid briefly toward Xian. She looked infuriatingly natural simply sitting there, all quiet control and inward steadiness, while he felt like an overassembled protocol droid attempting to impersonate serenity.

He leaned a fraction closer, speaking low enough that only she would hear. “I would like it noted,” he murmured, gaze fixed firmly ahead, “that if we leave now, I can still convincingly claim I attended.”

Then the instructor spoke. If you are here to learn how to win a fight, you are in the wrong room. Solon blinked. That… was unexpectedly comforting. He had not been under any serious illusion that he was going to win a fight. Against anyone. Possibly including some of the furniture.

His shoulders loosened by a degree. Maybe two. For the first time since entering, he allowed himself to actually look at the room instead of merely surviving being inside it. The dormant training droids. The students with varying degrees of confidence. The broad mats laid out not for spectacle but for repetition, correction, and humiliation of the educational variety.

Self defense. Not triumph. Not dominance. Not proving oneself the most dangerous person present. Just… not getting flattened. That felt attainable. Slightly.

Solon exhaled quietly through his nose and adjusted his posture into something marginally less corpse-like. He kept his eyes forward, though his voice dipped once more toward Xian with the faintest edge of dry resignation. “Well,” he said under his breath, “this is fortunate. My lifelong strategy has largely been not dying.”

And then, because he had come here for a reason beyond his own discomfort, because she was here and because somewhere beneath the awkwardness there remained a sincere desire to become less helpless than he felt far too often, Solon fell silent and listened. Actually listened.

 

[Connel Vanagor]

THE SPACE BETWEEN STRIKES
Naboo
Jedi Temple

Companions/Droids Every Day Gear Locations

• COMPANIONS / DROIDS
  
  • Wife (eventually) (\"Lira Voss[Vanagor]\")
  • Gallinorese Mountain Aak Dog (\"Buster\")
  • BB4-80 (\"Brad\")
  • B5-55
  [Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
• 
  Rides
  
  • "Enterprise" Station Ship
  • "Jedi Defender" Corvette
  • X-wing
  • Speeder
  • Speederbike
  • Iron Psalm
  Gear
  
  • When in Regular Robes/Gear
    • Lightsaber
    • 5 Throwing Lightknives
  • Headset Microphone Comm-Link
  SURGICAL - CRYBERNETIC IMPLANTS
  
  • Repli Implants that would be for the limbs
  • Bonemer enhancements to strengthen structure of the body
  • Muscle enhancements.
  • Hemo enhancements for blood flow
  • Hawkeye implants for eyes
  • Advanced Medical Implant
  • Scentzy
  • Injected Nanotech upgrades
• Shadow Sanctuary - Enterprise

He got what he wanted. Some looked at him disappointed. Some looked at him concerned that they were in the wrong room, some just rolled their eyes.Some were unsure of his intentions, while others whispered about his audacity. The atmosphere grew tense as he stood there, unapologetic and resolute. Despite the mixed reactions, he remained focused, knowing his choice would either validate his actions or lead to further scrutiny.

He let the silence stretch just long enough to settle over them. When he spoke again, his tone was even. No edge. No apology. Relax. I didn’t say you shouldn’t know how to fight.

Slowly he then glanced around the room. Taking them in. There’s nothing wrong with hoping for the best… and preparing for the worst. He rose to his feet, fluidly, unhurried. Centered.

But preparation doesn’t mean you’re looking for a fight. Slowly he took a breath and let those words float in the air. It means you’re ready if one finds you.

Then his gaze sharpened just a fraction. Let me ask you something. Connel looked out in a general direction. not calling on anyone in particular, but given how many students were there, who really knew. If you already have the advantage… by position, strong control, awareness… if you proverbially “have the high ground” what do you gain by throwing the first punch?

Then he looked around. Pride? Then he took a step forward. Satisfaction?

Putting his hands on his hips, throwing up an eyebrow he wondered: Or do you just lose the one thing that was keeping the situation from getting worse?

Letting his point land, Connel turned around and stepped back to where he was.. Anyone can escalate. That’s easy. His voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to. Control is harder. Briefly he paused, then: Walking away when you can fight… that’s a decision. Fighting when you must… that’s a responsibility.

He let that sit with them. Being able to fight can win you the moment. Knowing when to fight… Then his posture shifted ever so faintly. …that’s what wins everything that comes after.[/COLOR]

Novac Lyrikal • Warren of the Narrows
• Xian Xiao • Noriko Ike • Ivy Maro • Solon Rey

[Text in Brackets is spoken on Comm-link] ~Like this is through the Force~​

 

[Noriko Ike]

Connel Vanagor Solon Rey Ivy Maro Xian Xiao Michael Angellus Warren of the Narrows Novac Lyrikal

Noriko looked at Connel as he was speaking and she found a place when the others were coming in. WIth a nod of her head, it was a good lesson though she questioned his what can be gained by striking first question... Tactical Pocket Sand to the face solved a lot of prroblems and if you wanted to bypass mandalorian armor the kinetic impact of a ronto kick to the groin... Solved a lot of problems but both required you to go first and look at them later. She didn't voice it, she gave a nod of her head when she looked at him but spoke. "Wise master Vanago but are there situations where this might not be able to happen or be applied?" She wanted to try and get all of it, the lesson was important but knowing your limits was important. She didn't want a padawan to turn the other cheek and not fight when the alternative was their death and many more.

 

[Xian Xiao]

Xian heard Noriko before she saw her, the voice carrying with a familiarity that did not need confirmation, and for the briefest moment her focus shifted, not enough to turn or break posture, but enough that something tightened beneath the surface before settling again with deliberate control. Six years was not a small distance, and the memory of that voice brought more with it than she was willing to unpack here, so she set it aside with quiet precision, choosing instead to remain where she was and who she had become rather than who she had been when she last heard it.

Her attention returned forward as the question settled into the room, and this time her focus stayed on the discussion itself rather than the person who had asked it, because it was a good question, the kind that mattered more than comfort. She let it sit for a moment, turning it over in the same way she had learned to approach most things, not reacting, but considering what it actually meant when the edges were no longer clean.

Beside her, Solon shifted slightly, and she caught it without looking directly, the quiet effort he was making to exist in the space without drawing attention to himself. His earlier comment lingered in her thoughts, not as a distraction, but as something grounding in its honesty, and despite everything else, it made the moment feel more manageable.

She leaned just slightly closer, her voice low enough that it stayed between them while her gaze remained forward, maintaining the same outward composure.

"That's still a valid strategy," Xian murmured, her tone carrying a quiet steadiness rather than humor. "You're just learning how to make it work when things don't go the way you expect."

There was reassurance in it, not forced, not exaggerated, just enough to ease the edge without dismissing it.

Then she straightened again, letting her attention return fully to the center of the room before she spoke, her voice calm and measured, entering the discussion without disrupting it.

"There are situations where you don't get a choice," Xian said, not contradicting the lesson, but adding to it in a way that acknowledged the reality beneath it. "If someone is already committed to hurting you, or someone else, then waiting for the moment to stay controlled doesn't always exist, and pretending it does can make things worse instead of better."

She paused, not dramatically, but because the next part mattered more than the first.

"But that doesn't make acting first the same thing as losing control," she continued, her tone thoughtful rather than defensive. "It's still a decision, and it still has consequences, but it comes from understanding the situation, not reacting to it blindly."

Her gaze shifted slightly, not away, but deeper into the thought itself, as if she were mapping it out in real time.

"I think the difference is knowing why you're doing it," Xian added quietly. "If it's to protect something, that's different from proving something, even if it looks the same from the outside."

She let the words settle there without pushing them further, her posture easing back into stillness as her hands rested lightly against her knees again. Whatever tension had surfaced earlier was contained now, not gone, but no longer pulling at her attention.

Then she fell quiet, her focus returning fully to Connel, waiting to see how he would answer, because that mattered more than being right.

Noriko Ike Connel Vanagor Solon Rey Ivy Maro

 

[Ivy Maro]

Right. Lecture first, then lesson. Or maybe the lecture was the lesson? Anything more than five words was too long for Ivy who was eager for action this time, only half listening as others took a pause in the teacher’s speech as an opening for more droning discussion and debate.

All she heard was a bunch of common sense, to her. But of course, Ivy had to give grace to those in the room who were barely starting out and needed some fluffy pep talk to educate and rev them up.

She eyed a tiny pebble on the floor. Then another piece of gravel nearby. With a subtle ‘come hither’ motion of her fingertips, Ivy tugged a few fragments of dirt and stone into her hand, levitating them around her fingers in boredom, as discreetly as she could.
​

 

[Novac Lyrikal]

novac sat there listening, holding the tip of his tail in his lower right hand just fidgeting with it as he listen to them speak. 'why wouldn't you strike first? i mean i know a few reasons not to but im sure there would be plenty of cases where acting first. what if you need to save someone? what if their off guard? if they haven't seen you yet. he decided to speak up for once, "is that true though? im sure theres plenty of times acting first would be better. not for pride or satisfaction reasons. but for good ones. i mean i get what your saying overall but still."

 

[Connel Vanagor]

THE SPACE BETWEEN STRIKES
Naboo
Jedi Temple

Companions/Droids Every Day Gear Locations

• COMPANIONS / DROIDS
  Wife (eventually) (\"Lira Voss[Vanagor]\")
  Gallinorese Mountain Aak Dog (\"Buster\")
  BB4-80 (\"Brad\")
  B5-55
  [Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
• 
  Rides
  "Enterprise" Station Ship
  "Jedi Defender" Corvette
  X-wing
  Speeder
  Speederbike
  Iron Psalm
  Gear
  When in Regular Robes/Gear
  Lightsaber
  5 Throwing Lightknives
  Headset Microphone Comm-Link
  SURGICAL - CRYBERNETIC IMPLANTS
  Repli Implants that would be for the limbs
  Bonemer enhancements to strengthen structure of the body
  Muscle enhancements.
  Hemo enhancements for blood flow
  Hawkeye implants for eyes
  Advanced Medical Implant
  Scentzy
  Injected Nanotech upgrades
  
  
  
• Shadow Sanctuary - Enterprise

There was a flicker of disappointment… gone just as quickly as it came. It didn’t matter. Listening to everyone, he had heard it all. The room had already said enough. He listened as they spoke. Not just the words—the intent behind them.

• Strike first.
• Take advantage.
• End it before it begins.

He’d heard it before, in the streets, in “Rebel” meetings, among Omega Squad. He understood it, after all, he employed those tactics many times on his own. But this time… it was different, that was the problem. He’s not trying to teach the next “Ariel”, he’s trying to teach others how to defend.

Connel exhaled slowly. You’re not wrong. There was a shift in many of the room, not in agreement but acknowledgment. Stepping forward, hands at his sides, he looked each of them in the eye. There are situations where you don’t get a choice.

A glance toward Xian. Toward Noriko. Toward the others who had actually thought about it. Tf they intend to hurt you, if it is you or them, you need to make it them. There was no hesitation in his voice. If it comes to that, you act swiftly, and decisively. He let out a sigh.

If that means you move first, then you move first.

Slowly he faced a set of three droids, specifically off on their own, lying dormant, waiting. His tone and demeanor are a little more focused. That is not what I am talking about. I am talking about before that.

27, 69, 81, approach. The three droids, all NAHK - 8675309 Training Droid models, stirred to life and began to approach. Connel didn’t wait. He moved, Fast.

The first droid suffered a strike to the jawline, a pivot, two rapid hits to the arm joints, then a hit of finality to the neck, sparks burst as it collapsed. The attack was controlled, efficient, and over in seconds.

You find someone… He didn’t bother to look their way. You know that they are dangerous.

At this point the second of the three twitched to life again, barely getting a foot before being struck by a hammerfist that drove it hard to the ground. So you decide… He glanced over his shoulder. Just this once…

As he did so, the droids climbed to their feet. That it was necessary…

As the droids returned to their position, he watched. ”I had no choice.”

The droid, shorting out in a shower of sparks, rebooted and slowly rose back to its feet before returning to its original assigned position. Then Connel looked around. Then another time. You see one approach you. They look like arrogant fools or some overzealous kid. Then he attacked the one on the right with what looked to

be a style of “hammerfist”. Let me guess, they would have done it to you?

He let the silence sit for a moment or two before speaking again. ... and maybe you’re right.Letting his point land, Connel turned around. Maybe you didn’t have a choice.

Stepping back slowly, in a controlled manner, leaving the third droid untouched, his voice didn’t change.

... but the next time, it’s easier... He paused momentarily before turning around. ... and the next time… He then stopped. ... you stop asking.

There it is. The point he was landing. That’s the line. He pointed passively toward the droids. Not striking first. Not acting fast. Not protecting someone.

Letting the words hang in the air, he stood quietly for a moment. It is when you stop needing a reason. Not all of them understood yet, but there was enough silence that filled the space again, heavier this time.

More honest. The galaxy’s always changing. His voice settled back into that calm, grounded cadence that was needed, one he learned. That’s not new… but if you change with it every time it gets harder…

He could have just shook his head, he almost did, but the look on his face said enough. …then there’s nothing left that separates you from the people you’re fighting.

Hands again on his hips, he looked to his boots. Soldiers have rules. So do Jedi. Even if you’re neither… He looked around the room, a little sharper this time.. …you’re here because something in you knows there should be a line.

Time to let that breathe. Then, in a quieter tone he continued, I’m not here to tell you not to cross it.

There was an unexpected turn. I’m here to make sure you know when you did.

He paused again, letting the weight of his words sink in. Once you cross that line, it changes you—makes it harder to find your way back. His gaze met theirs, steady and unwavering. Remember this moment; it might be the one that defines who you become.

He let out another sigh. Because every one of you in this room… Slowly he looked around. …has advantages most people don’t.

There was another pause. But you also carry something they don’t.

His voice lowered, just enough to hopefully pull them in. The weight of how it looks when you’re wrong. The court of opinion doesn’t care what you meant. It cares what you did.
And that’s where he leaves them, almost. Once the silence settled.

81. The droid’s head tilted. Instead of moving forward… it projected a flicker of light. Then grainy footage. A video of Low light. Tight corridors. It was a bunker on Ord Mantell. And him, not Connel.. not the man standing in front of them.

But Ariel.

Fast. Efficient. Relentless. A being of no hesitation, no warnings. No second chances. It’s not flashy. That’s what makes the video even worse. It’s quiet violence. Controlled. Cold.

Final.

The room changed. Maybe not the entire room, but enough that you can feel it. Connel didn’t look at the projection. He didn’t need to. He watched the students instead. He let them see it, process it.

Then, calmly That’s what it can look like when the line gets… flexible.

Not a comment of pride or shame. Just one of truth. The footage continued for another second then cut. He let the silence hang again until he finally turned toward it… if only briefly. Almost like looking at something familiar… but not welcome. He was right.

He paused for a moment. Every decision in there made sense. That line validated the exact argument the students made. Then he turned back to them. That’s the problem.

He looked out at all of them and stepped forward. You don’t lose yourself all at once. You lose yourself one justified choice at a time.

Pointing back at the paused footage. That man? A little exaggerated. He pointed again. He wins fights.

Another moment went by. He completes missions… Then, quieter ... and he walks away from both… alone. He let that sit, clearly not looking for, wanting, or expecting any pity. Even like this, Connel was never dramatic or one for over-explanation. Some might think of him as more “robotic” with all of those cybernetics.

He doesn’t know what he is. He did not point to himself, he let them make the potential connection, those who might not already know.

Don’t be him.

Novac Lyrikal • Xian Xiao • Noriko Ike • Ivy Maro • Solon Rey • Warren of the Narrows
[Text in Brackets is spoken on Comm-link] ~Like this is through the Force~​

 

[Solon Rey]

Objective: Learn what Solon is capable of
Location: Jedi Temple, Naboo
Outfit: Robes
Tags: Xian Xiao | Connel Vanagor | Novac Lyrikal | Noriko Ike | Ivy Maro | Warren of the Narrows

Solon absorbed Xian’s quiet answer beside him with a small, almost imperceptible nod. That was, unfortunately, the problem with her way of saying things: she made terrifying concepts sound distressingly manageable. Learning how to make it work when things don't go the way you expect.

Which, in Solon’s experience, was an elegant way of describing nearly every day he had lived through in recent memory. His mouth twitched faintly at one corner, not quite a smile, but enough to acknowledge that her reassurance had landed where it was meant to. It loosened something in his chest — not the anxiety entirely, that seemed biologically committed to him — but enough that he no longer felt like bolting from the mat at the first excuse.

He kept his eyes ahead as she spoke to the room. And listened. Really listened. Xian’s words carried the sort of measured certainty he envied in other people — not loud, not demanding agreement, but built on thought that had already survived scrutiny before being offered aloud. Solon found himself turning over what she said while the room remained suspended in that classroom stillness where every contribution seemed to hang a little longer than ordinary conversation allowed. Not reacting blindly. Knowing why. Protecting something versus proving something.

The distinction sounded obvious when spoken plainly. Which usually meant it was not obvious at all when someone was frightened. Solon became aware, all at once, that several people in the room spoke from places he did not. Experience. Combat. Training. Histories he could hear in the shape of their confidence even when they said little.

He spoke from a place considerably less glamorous. Namely panic. His fingers shifted once against his knee before he realized, with a flare of private regret, that he was about to voluntarily contribute to a public discussion. A catastrophic lapse in judgment.

Still, he cleared his throat softly. “I—” Solon began, then winced at himself and tried again with marginally more commitment. “I think… for some people the issue may not be deciding whether to act first.”

His voice was not loud, but it carried in the attentive quiet. “It may be deciding anything at all.”

He swallowed once, eyes still trained generally forward rather than on the faces around him. “Because if you are not used to violence, or if you know you are outmatched, there is a moment where your mind becomes less concerned with principles and more concerned with the very immediate possibility that this may go terribly for you.”

An understatement.

He felt heat crawl faintly up the back of his neck but continued, because stopping halfway would somehow be worse. “So the question of whether you are protecting something, proving something, or controlling the encounter—” he lifted one shoulder in a restrained, awkward motion, “—those are all very good questions, but they presume you are calm enough to ask them before fear makes the decision in your place.”

That sat with him for a second. There. Vulnerability. How revolting. Solon drew a slow breath through his nose. “I suppose,” he added, with a quieter dryness that was more recognizably his own, “my concern is less how not to win a fight and more how not to become decorative flooring the moment one begins.”

A beat. Then, because Connel had explicitly invited thought and not performance, Solon inclined his head slightly toward the instructor. “If self defense begins before the physical exchange,” he said, more serious now, “how do you train yourself to think clearly enough in that first moment for any of the later choices to matter?”

Only after the question left him did he become acutely aware that he had spoken far more than intended. His gaze dropped briefly. Very briefly. Then slid sideways toward Xian with the resigned expression of a man who had accidentally become visible and would prefer not to discuss it.

 

[Noriko Ike]

Connel Vanagor Solon Rey Ivy Maro Xian Xiao Michael Angellus Warren of the Narrows Novac Lyrikal

She looked at Connel as he was explaining and gave a nod of her head. Finding a place to sit and listen to more of it. He had answered the question and she spoke with a bow of her head. "Thank you." She didn't need to argue it, she was here to learn after all and giving the chance for it was better. She wasn't going to try and derail his efforts while she moved into a more relaxed position for the class but brought up her kirano's overlay. The optical hologram for her so she could take and have the notes of what he was saying and what he was answering. The built in AI transcribing her question and his answer with the lesson so that she would have the minutes.

 

[Xian Xiao]

Xian listened without interrupting this time, her attention settling more fully as Connel moved from words into demonstration, and then into something heavier than either. She didn't shift when the droids activated, didn't react outwardly to their speed or efficiency, but her focus sharpened in a way that was quieter and more deliberate, following not just what he did, but why he chose to show it that way.

When the footage appeared, that was where her gaze held.

Not with shock. Not even with discomfort.

Recognition.

Not of the man himself, not directly, but of the pattern he was describing, the slow erosion of a line that didn't disappear all at once, but faded through decisions that made sense in the moment. That part landed, and she let it sit there instead of pushing against it.

Her posture remained composed, hands resting loosely, but her fingers stilled completely now, no idle movement left in them.

By the time the silence settled again, she had already formed the question, turning it over once before speaking, making sure it was worth asking.

"When it does make sense," Xian said, her voice calm but more focused than before, not challenging, just precise, "when every decision in that moment is the right one for survival, or for protecting someone…"

She paused briefly, not for effect, but to make sure the thought held together.

"How do you recognize the line after the fact?" she continued. "If you only see it once it's already been crossed, how do you know you didn't need to cross it?"

Her gaze stayed on him, steady and intent, not looking for an easy answer.

"Because if every step can be justified," Xian added quietly, "then it feels like the line only exists when you're already past it."

She let the question settle there without pressing further, her posture easing back into stillness again as she waited, not for correction, but for something she could actually use.

Noriko Ike Solon Rey Connel Vanagor Novac Lyrikal Ivy Maro Warren of the Narrows

 

[Ivy Maro]

The activation of droids snapped Ivy’s focus to attention, blinking in surprise.

What the…?

Her eyes widened. A few fidget pebbles spilled from Ivy’s stunned hand, onto the floor. One second the teacher was all calm, cool, collected and the next he was punching droids in the face! For a class titled self-defense, it seemed like a pretty “proactive” demonstration to her. Alarm flashed across Ivy’s face, almost nervous that Connel would let off some steam at the students next and hurl one of them across the room.

Fortunately he did not run out of droids, for that to happen.

“Once you cross that line, it changes you…”

Ivy's expression darkened, a simmer of guilt wrestling with pride against her pursed, tight lips. Something about that particular line felt... exposing. Pressuring her to resist. Perhaps troll a little.

“Don’t be like him.”

Ivy huffed quietly, cracking a smirk. “Why not?” She half-joked. By all means, the guy in the holovid looked like a good soldier doing his duty. A walking symbol of what it is to feel dead and robotic inside, which everyone who's struggled through life could relate to, to some extent.

“Sacrifice, right?" Ivy looked up from the holovid. "That’s what we do." Surely everyone in this room fought for something beyond themselves. Family, friends, innocents, creed… “We change ourselves to become someone that someone else needs. We all live by somebody else's rules, I think."

She cocked her head at Connel Vanagor . "Aren't we living by your rules, to attend this class?"

Alright, time to be a party-pooper. "Uh, 'scuse me but... Is this class about practicality or ethics? Because personally, I don't like being told what's the 'right' way to fight. Ethically, I mean. I'm here to learn some moves and some skills, but anything about morals is just pointless argument, no? The Force wins either way, whether or not you decide to control your emotions in a fight."

Too much philosophy was draining on her. Hopefully a more blunt answer would help speed things along.

“How do you train yourself to think clearly enough in that first moment for any of the later choices to matter?” Solon Rey asked.

Ivy turned her head, examining Solon with a semi-awkward glance up and down. “Meditation.?” She suggested.

From the looks of Solon, he’d need a lot of it. The kid’s nervousness was palpable, he looked like he’d never stepped on a bug in his life. Wait, was he a girl or a really pretty boy?

"How do you recognize the line after the fact?" Xian Xiao continued. "If you only see it once it's already been crossed, how do you know you didn't need to cross it?"

Ivy chuckled under her breath. "Guilt and nightmares."
​

 

[Connel Vanagor]

THE SPACE BETWEEN STRIKES
Naboo
Jedi Temple

Companions/Droids Every Day Gear Locations

• COMPANIONS / DROIDS
  Wife (eventually) (\"Lira Voss[Vanagor]\")
  Gallinorese Mountain Aak Dog (\"Buster\")
  BB4-80 (\"Brad\")
  B5-55
  [Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
• 
  Rides
  "Enterprise" Station Ship
  "Jedi Defender" Corvette
  X-wing
  Speeder
  Speederbike
  Iron Psalm
  Gear
  When in Regular Robes/Gear
  Lightsaber
  5 Throwing Lightknives
  Headset Microphone Comm-Link
  SURGICAL - CRYBERNETIC IMPLANTS
  Repli Implants that would be for the limbs
  Bonemer enhancements to strengthen structure of the body
  Muscle enhancements.
  Hemo enhancements for blood flow
  Hawkeye implants for eyes
  Advanced Medical Implant
  Scentzy
  Injected Nanotech upgrades
  
• Shadow Sanctuary - Enterprise

If I bulldoze this room right now… I become the exact lesson I’m trying to teach.
That’s huge.
Here’s how I’d tie it together:

The room settled into an uneasy quiet after Ivy’s final remark.

Guilt and nightmares.

A few students shifted faintly on the mats. Others watched him carefully now, waiting to see whether the class would continue…or fracture. Connel stood motionless near the inactive droid. For a moment, he looked every bit like the figure from the holovid. Still…Unreadable…Dangerous…

His jaw tightened, ever so slightly. The irritation was there. Visible enough now for those paying attention to catch it. Not because they had disagreed with him…but because they had dragged the conversation into places he himself still struggled to navigate. Places like ethics, like fear, like survival, sacrifice, and most of all… identity. Too many voices. Too many angles. Too much gray. Part of him wanted to shut it down.

Fine. Enough philosophy. Stand up. Learn to fight.

This would have been simple, clean, easier. His fingers flexed once at his side, then stopped. They stopped because somewhere underneath the irritation, another realization settled in with irritating clarity:They weren’t mocking the lesson. They were trying to understand it.

Even Ivy, in her own blunt, half-provocative way. That mattered. Connel exhaled slowly through his nose. The tension in his posture eased… not disappearing entirely, but settling back under control. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer.

More honest.

You’re right. The admission hung in the room long enough to surprise people, most of all Michael. His gaze shifted briefly toward Ivy first. This can’t just be an ethics discussion.

So, he moved toward and offered them a faint gesture toward the mats. If all you leave here with are philosophical debates and no practical skills… A dry edge entered his voice. …the first person with bad intentions is going to turn this class into a medical emergency.

That earned the smallest flicker of humor at the corners of his mouth. Barely there. But it was human. Then he looked toward Xian. And you’re right too. No resistance in his tone now, just acknowledgment. Sometimes every decision does make sense when you’re inside the moment.

A glance toward the inactive holoprojector. That’s what makes those moments dangerous. Then toward Solon, something in Connel’s expression shifted there. No pity, but recognition, Solon was like a heavy set person in a gym, worthy of the most respect because what it took for him to be here is worthy of admiration. That being said… his question is probably the most important one in the room.

Most of the atrium quieted again. How do you think clearly enough before fear decides for you?’ He repeated it carefully, like he was hearing it properly for the first time himself.
Connel folded his arms loosely behind his back and began to pace slowly across the edge of the mats. Fear speeds people up. It narrows your world. Makes every problem feel immediate. Permanent.

He stopped. ... and once fear takes over… A small shake of his head. …most people stop making decisions.

He then stopped and looked around. They start reacting. He thought about much of his young life, trying to live up to the legacy of Caltin Vanagor . He thought of how much it took for him to go through each day, even to teach this, his first ever group class.

His eyes moved across the room again. Different faces. Different histories. Different scars.

And suddenly the class made more sense to him than it had ten minutes ago. This wasn’t a room full of warriors asking how to hurt people. It was a room full of people afraid of failing when it mattered. The realization softened something in him. Not weakness, but perspective. So maybe that’s my mistake.

That got attention from many. Connel rarely sounded uncertain. I started at the end of the lesson. A faint exhale escaped him, almost amused at himself. That’s on me. Then, finally, he nodded once toward the mats. The instructor returning, but different now. Steadier.

This isn’t about becoming passive, and it’s not about becoming ruthless. It’s about buying yourself enough clarity in the first few seconds of potential fear…
He tapped two fingers lightly against his temple. …to choose who you become next. He fell silent settled again. But this time it felt focused instead of divided. Connel turned toward the training droids. Alright.

A sharper edge returned to his tone now. Familiar. Grounding. Enough talking. The faintest hint of a smirk. Before somebody writes a dissertation.

A glance briefly toward Ivy, then Michael, then toward the room at large. Pair off.

The droids along the walls began to stir softly to life. We’re starting with breathing, distance, and situational awareness. He took a breath. ...because if your mind collapses the second pressure hits…

Now a slight gesture toward the destroyed droid. …none of the rest of this matters.

Novac Lyrikal • Xian Xiao • Noriko Ike • Ivy Maro • Solon Rey • Warren of the Narrows
[Text in Brackets is spok
en on Comm-link] ~Like this is through the Force~​

 

[Ivy Maro]

Ivy could sense Connel Vanagor twitch and crack beneath the tough facade. Perhaps she ought to feel bad for trying to push his buttons a bit. But Connel had signed up for it; this wasn't a Jedi youngling class where he might expect others to go easy on him.

Despite the hazing, he was still able to humble himself and admit his weaknesses.

Hm. Respect.

A glance briefly toward Ivy, then Michael, then toward the room at large. Pair off.

Yes! Finally!

The implication wasn't lost on her, however, as Ivy followed the teacher's gaze to where Michael Angellus was. Something about the intensity of Connel's glance in that moment, lingering on Michael, piqued Ivy's interest, observing the level of connection between the two men. It felt very personal for her to be paired up with someone Connel already knew. Was this a good thing or a bad thing?

As the students found their partners, Ivy strode up to Michael with a playful grin.

"Oh. Hey there, Mikey. I guess we're dance partners." They hadn't met too long ago, at the hangar in the Jedi Temple. Ivy didn't think they'd be bonding again so soon.

She balled her fists and shuffled her feet in mock readiness. "You ready for this?" She giggled, a wicked gleam in her eye as she teased Michael, "I'll go easy on you." She then loosened her stance and relaxed a bit, drawing her attention back to the teacher as she awaited further instruction.
​