Private Thrown Into History

[Sera Dragovalor]

The Tactical Training Complex was nothing like the quiet training grounds of Naboo. The facility occupied an enormous section of Aurora Station, large enough for dozens of exercises to take place simultaneously. Recruits drilled formations under barking instructors while soldiers sparred on nearby mats and blaster fire echoed from simulation ranges beyond. The constant noise of impacts, shouted commands, and military precision created a steady hum of activity that never seemed to stop. Sera found herself enjoying it far more than she expected.

Sweat dampened copper curls that had long since escaped whatever attempt she'd made to tie them back. Her breathing came harder than she would have liked as she circled the larger man opposite her inside one of the training rings. He wasn't Force-sensitive. He wasn't particularly flashy either. He was simply experienced. Years of military training showed in every movement, every shift of balance, every adjustment of stance. Sera had already discovered that confidence and talent were not the same thing as experience.

Unfortunately, she discovered it again.

She lunged first. The soldier pivoted smoothly, caught her momentum, and redirected it with such practiced efficiency that she barely understood what had happened until her feet left the mat. The world flipped upside down. A collective wince rose from several nearby spectators as Sera sailed clear out of the ring before crashing onto the training floor hard enough to slide several meters across the polished surface. She landed flat on her back and stared at the ceiling for a long moment.

"Ow." She remained there for a heartbeat longer before sighing dramatically. "Okay. That one was definitely my fault." Laughter rippled through the watching recruits. Even the soldier who had thrown her looked like he was trying not to smile. Sera pushed herself upright and rubbed the back of her head. "Good news," she announced while climbing back to her feet. "I figured out exactly what I did wrong." The soldier folded his arms. "You rushed me." Sera pointed at him immediately. "No. I let you throw me." That earned another round of laughter from everyone nearby.

Grinning despite herself, she brushed dust from her clothes and turned back toward the ring, only to realize she'd stopped directly in front of someone. The smile faded slightly as her eyes traveled upward. At first glance, he didn't look much older than she was. Maybe a few years. Certainly younger than most of the officers she'd encountered aboard the station. Yet there was something about him that immediately made that first impression feel incomplete. Not age exactly. Weight. Presence. The sort of quiet gravity some people carried without ever needing to announce themselves.

Sera straightened instinctively before glancing back toward the ring, then back toward him again. Her expression shifted into one of immediate resignation.

"...You saw that whole thing, didn't you?"

Judging by where she'd landed, there was absolutely no chance he hadn't.

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto stood near the edge of the training floor with his arms crossed behind his back, silently observing the latest batch of recruits as they worked through their drills. When he had first entered the room, a nearby officer had immediately snapped to attention, drawing in a breath as though preparing to announce the arrival of a superior officer. Before the man could speak, Laphisto raised a hand and gave a small shake of his head. The officer froze, understood the message, and relaxed once more. He hadn't come for ceremony, nor did he have any interest in disrupting the training simply because he had walked into the room. He had come to observe.

For several minutes he remained where he was, watching the recruits cycle through their exercises. His attention shifted from group to group, occasionally lingering on a stance, a correction, or a mistake before moving on. Satisfied enough with what he had seen, he eventually turned to leave. He had barely taken a step when a loud thud echoed across the training floor, followed by the unmistakable sound of cloth sliding across metal. A second later something lightly bumped against the back of his heel.

One brow rose as he turned back around. The source wasn't difficult to identify. A recruit was already climbing back to her feet, dusting herself off while laughter rippled through the surrounding trainees. Laphisto watched her exchange a few words with those nearby before she started back toward the training ring. The movement stopped abruptly when she noticed him standing there. For a brief moment he simply regarded her, his expression unreadable as she looked from him to the ring and then back again.

Peculiar. When the question finally came, his gaze drifted across the room before returning to her. A quiet chuckle rolled from his throat as he gestured vaguely toward the dozens of soldiers and recruits occupying the training hall. "I don't think there's anyone in this room who didn't see that, recruit."

The faint amusement remained for only a moment. As he looked at her, his eyes shifted from their natural color to a brilliant gold, a crimson hue tracing the outer edges of his irises. The colors moved together like an aurora caught beneath glass, subtle but unmistakable to anyone paying attention. At the same time, the Force rolled outward from him in a measured wave. It wasn't aggressive and it wasn't overwhelming, but it carried enough weight to be felt. The pressure brushed against her awareness before pressing deeper, testing the strength of her connection and following the currents of her Force signature. Light, dark, or somewhere between, he searched for the answer with the same quiet patience he had shown while observing the recruits only moments before.

Sera Dragovalor

 

[Sera Dragovalor]

The answer earned an immediate groan. "That's somehow worse." Sera rubbed the back of her neck before letting her hand fall away; the lingering embarrassment was softened by the fact that half the room was still trying not to laugh. At least nobody seemed particularly surprised by it. Judging by the bruises scattered among the recruits and the easy confidence of the soldiers training them, getting thrown around was probably considered part of the curriculum. "Good to know my suffering has contributed to morale." The corner of her mouth twitched upward before her attention settled fully on him again.

Something changed. It wasn't just the shift in his eyes. The colors caught her attention immediately, gold and crimson moving together in a way that felt almost unreal, but what followed was harder to ignore. The Force rolled outward from him like a slow-moving tide. Not hostile. Not threatening. Just present. Ancient. Sera felt it brush against her awareness and instinctively reached back through the connection she had spent her entire life cultivating. There was no resistance to it, no attempt to shield herself from whatever he was doing. Confusion, maybe. Curiosity certainly. But not fear.

The Force answered him as naturally as breathing. Warm. Bright. Untidy in places. A connection shaped by years of discipline and training, but still carrying the unmistakable restlessness of youth. Compassion sat near the center of it. Determination too. Both woven through a stubborn streak that had gotten her into more trouble than she cared to admit. There were traces of uncertainty buried deeper beneath the surface, questions she was still trying to answer about herself and what kind of future she wanted to build, but they weren't hidden behind walls. She had never been particularly good at hiding who she was.

Sera tilted her head slightly as she studied him in return. There was no mistaking that whatever he was doing, it wasn't something she had encountered before. Most Force users she'd met were easier to understand. Their presence felt familiar, recognizable. This felt different. Older somehow, though looking at him gave no indication of why that should be true.

"...You're doing a Force thing right now, aren't you?" The question came without accusation, mostly because she was fairly certain she already knew the answer. "What kind of Force thing, though, is the important question." A beat passed before her expression brightened again. "Please tell me it's not mind-reading. That would make this conversation immediately more awkward."

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

Almost as quickly as it had begun, the pressure receded. The glow faded from Laphisto's eyes, the gold and crimson dissolving back into their natural color. He gave a visible wince and brought two fingers to the bridge of his nose, rubbing it slowly as a quiet rumble escaped his throat. A slow breath followed before he shook his head once, more at himself than at anything else, and a faint chuckle slipped free. "Yes, that was a Force thing."

His hand dropped back to his side as he regarded her for another moment. There was no secrecy in the admission, nor any embarrassment. If anything, he answered with the casual tone of someone explaining a routine inspection. "I was looking at your connection to the Force. Not your memories. Not your thoughts. Just the path you're walking." His gaze lingered for a moment, the hint of amusement still present after her comment about mind-reading. "You don't strike me as someone with much to hide anyway." The corner of his mouth lifted briefly before he continued.

"Here, we don't divide our people into Light and Dark the way most Orders do. Both are accepted, and both are trained." He paused long enough for the sounds of the training hall to fill the space between them before adding, "That said, those who lean toward the Dark Side usually receive more instruction, not less. Passion is a powerful tool, but without discipline, it's just another way to lose yourself. We make certain our people learn control before they're ever encouraged to embrace that path"

Sera Dragovalor

 

[Sera Dragovalor]

Sera couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her.

"You're not wrong." She wasn't particularly mysterious. If something was bothering her, it usually found its way onto her face sooner or later. Keeping secrets from people who knew her well had never been one of her stronger talents, and she wasn't entirely convinced she wanted it to be. His explanation, however, held her attention far more than the observation about her personality.

The smile softened into quiet curiosity as she listened. There was no outrage or immediate objection, only the unmistakable look of someone turning unfamiliar ideas over in her mind. She had grown up hearing the Force spoken of with reverence, discipline, and responsibility. Light and Dark had always been presented as distinct paths, not simply different aspects to be understood and guided. "...That's..." she began before pausing to find the right word. "Different."

Her gaze drifted briefly toward the recruits still training nearby before returning to him. "I've always been taught that discipline comes first, regardless of what you're feeling." She gave a small shrug. "I suppose that's not entirely different from what you're saying. Just... the destination seems different." A thoughtful smile returned. "I don't think I ever expected to hear the High Commander say, 'We teach both sides of the Force.'"

She paused, blinking once before an embarrassed little laugh escaped her.

"...I got so caught up in the conversation that I forgot to introduce myself." She offered her hand with an apologetic smile. "Sera. Sera Dragovalor."

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, High Commander." Her smile lingered as genuine curiosity returned to her expression. "And now that I've remembered my manners..." She tilted her head ever so slightly. "Why?"

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto accepted the offered hand without hesitation. His grip was firm but brief, releasing it after a single shake before offering a small nod in return. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Sera." The greeting was simple, without ceremony, and his attention drifted beyond her almost immediately as the sounds of the training hall reclaimed the space around them. Recruits had returned to their drills, though more than a few were still stealing glances in his direction while pretending to focus on their partners. The habit wasn't uncommon. Even when told otherwise, soldiers had a tendency to watch their commanders just as closely as their commanders watched them.

"I was observing our newest batch of cadets," he answered, the faintest hint of amusement touching his expression. Rather than continue speaking only to Sera, he shifted his stance and raised his voice just enough to carry across the nearest training rings. It wasn't a shout. Years of command had simply taught him how to project without effort, and before long the conversations around the room began to taper off as instructors and recruits alike looked in his direction. "As many of you already know, after the fall of the Diarchy we were unable to keep what remained of its government together. Rather than spend years fighting over the ashes, the Lilaste Order chose a different path. We began our exodus into the Unknown Regions to build something new." His gaze swept slowly across the room, taking in the faces before him. "That also means we're building a new generation of leaders, soldiers, and Force users."

He folded his hands behind his back once more as he continued. "When your basic training comes to an end, each mentor within the Order selects cadets to train personally. Every one of us is watching, whether you realize it or not." A few recruits instinctively straightened beneath his attention while others exchanged quick, surprised glances. "One of you will train directly under me. Others will earn places under commanders, generals, instructors, and Knights throughout the Order. None of those decisions are made from a single test or a single performance. They're made by watching how you carry yourselves every day. How you learn. How you recover from failure. How you treat those standing beside you."

His eyes settled back on Sera, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a faint smile that carried just enough humor to acknowledge the timing of their meeting. "So keep that in mind during these last few weeks of basic training." His gaze briefly shifted toward the training ring she'd so recently been thrown from before returning to her. "Every success is noticed." A brief pause followed. "So is every mistake. Sometimes, the way you recover from one tells us more than succeeding ever could."

Sera Dragovalor

 

[Sera Dragovalor]

Sera released his hand and instinctively stepped back as his attention shifted to the rest of the training hall. Around her, conversations faded and the rhythmic sounds of practice slowed as recruits and instructors alike turned toward the High Commander. She found herself doing the same, standing a little straighter without entirely realizing it. Whatever embarrassment lingered from being unceremoniously launched out of the training ring moments earlier quietly gave way to attentive curiosity.

His words settled more deeply than she expected.

She had spent the better part of the last minute replaying the throw in her mind, wondering what she'd done wrong and silently wishing it hadn't happened quite so publicly. Hearing him speak of recovery instead of perfection eased something she'd only just begun criticizing herself over. Maybe being knocked down wasn't the part people remembered. Maybe what mattered was whether she stayed there.

A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she glanced back toward the ring where her training partner was already waiting. The bruise she'd undoubtedly be wearing tomorrow suddenly felt a little less like failure and a little more like tuition. If everyone in the room was being watched, then perhaps everyone in the room had stumbled before finding their footing.

"I'll try to give you more successes than mistakes to notice," she said with a quiet laugh, the humor returning to her voice. "Though I suppose you've just ruined any hope I had of pretending nobody saw that throw."

Her smile broadened into something more determined than embarrassed as she inclined her head respectfully.

"Thank you, Commander." She glanced once more toward the waiting recruits before looking back at him. "I'd better get back out there. It sounds like I still have a few weeks to convince someone I'm worth taking a chance on."

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

The months of basic training passed with the steady rhythm expected of military life. Every day began before first light and ended long after exhaustion had set in, each week building upon the last. Weapons drills, squad maneuvers, classroom instruction, field exercises, and hours spent in the sparring rings gradually replaced uncertainty with routine. Recruits who had arrived from different worlds and backgrounds learned to move as cohesive units, correcting one another without waiting for an instructor to intervene. Throughout it all, evaluations were constant. Some came openly from drill instructors. Others came from officers who appeared without warning, observed in silence, and left without explanation.

When graduation day arrived, the Tactical Training Complex looked almost unrecognizable. Training rings and obstacle equipment had been cleared away, replaced by neatly aligned formations stretching across the polished deck. The banner of the Lilaste Order hung above the raised platform while instructors and senior officers assembled behind it, their dress uniforms replacing the field gear they normally wore. Family members, veterans, and station personnel filled the upper galleries, their conversations fading as the graduates were called to attention.

A side door opened, and Laphisto entered with several members of the senior command staff. There was no announcement of his arrival and no ceremonial fanfare. He walked to the center of the platform with his hands folded behind his back, waiting until the hall settled into complete silence before speaking.

"Privates. You stand here today because you completed your basic military training. That title was not given to you as a reward, nor was it earned through a single test or exercise. It was earned over months of discipline, consistency, and the willingness to improve when correction was required. Today you leave this hall as members of the Lilaste Order. From this point forward, you will be judged not as recruits learning the basics, but as soldiers expected to uphold the standards of this Order wherever you serve."

An adjutant stepped forward and placed a datapad into his waiting hand before returning to the line of officers. "Every one of you has already received your branch assignments. Those selected for infantry, armor, aviation, logistics, engineering, intelligence, and naval service will report to your respective commands following this ceremony. Those among you who possess a connection to the Force will continue their service under experienced Force-users within the Order. Your military service does not change because of that connection, but your training will become more specialized. The mentors assigned to you have spent the past several months reviewing reports from your instructors, observing your performance, and determining where your strengths will best serve the Order."

He lowered his eyes to the datapad. "Private Corvin Hale. Assigned to Captain Varek." The young private stepped out of formation, rendered a crisp salute, and crossed the floor to join the officer waiting behind the platform. Laphisto continued. One name after another echoed throughout the hall, each assignment delivered with the same measured cadence. Every private stepped forward only after their name was called, saluted, accepted their assignment, and took their place beside the mentor they had been paired with. The ceremony moved with practiced efficiency, neither rushed nor drawn out, until only a single entry remained on the datapad.

Laphisto looked up. "Private Sera Dragovalor. you have been assigned to continue your training under my direct supervision." The announcement drew subtle reactions throughout the assembled ranks. A few privates exchanged quick glances before returning their attention forward. Laphisto allowed the silence to linger for a moment before the faintest hint of a smile appeared. "I trust your footing has improved since our first day in the training hall." without much more comment on that he chuckle looking up then back to the gatehred group "Congratulations, Privates. Report to your assigned mentors immediately following this ceremony. Dismissed."

Sera Dragovalor

 

[Sera Dragovalor]

The months between that first humiliating morning in the training hall and graduation had disappeared almost without her noticing. The days had blended together into a rhythm of early mornings, aching muscles, classroom instruction, drills, field exercises, and countless hours spent learning not only how to fight, but how to think as part of something larger than herself. The bruises had become less frequent, her footing surer, and the uncertainty she'd carried into basic training had gradually been replaced by quiet confidence. She still made mistakes. Everyone did. The difference was that she no longer feared making them. She had learned that improvement came from standing back up, not from never being knocked down in the first place.

Standing in formation, Sera kept her posture straight and her attention fixed forward while the ceremony unfolded. Around her, privates who had shared every hardship of the past several months waited with the same mixture of anticipation and nerves. Some shifted their weight ever so slightly. Others stared ahead with practiced discipline, though she suspected their thoughts were racing just as quickly as hers. Every name called was another reminder that the path each of them had walked together was about to branch in different directions.

One by one they stepped forward, accepted their assignments, and joined the mentors waiting behind the platform. Sera watched friends disappear from the formation, each finding their place within the Order. She found herself unexpectedly smiling as familiar faces crossed the floor, proud of people she'd barely known only a few months earlier but now trusted without hesitation. Whatever came next, they had all earned the right to stand where they did today.

Then came her name.

"Private Sera Dragovalor. You have been assigned to continue your training under my direct supervision."

For the briefest moment, surprise eclipsed everything else.

She recovered almost immediately, stepping smartly out of formation and marching toward the platform with measured confidence. Her salute was crisp, held until acknowledged before lowering her hand. At the mention of her footing, a faint flush of embarrassment mixed with an equally genuine smile. "It has, Commander," she replied, unable to keep the quiet humor from her voice. "Though I suspect you'll let me know if it ever slips again."

As she took her place beside him, the significance of the assignment settled over her. This wasn't simply another stage of training. It was a vote of confidence from someone who had been watching long before she'd realized anyone was paying attention. The memory of lying on the training hall floor after being thrown from the ring surfaced unexpectedly, followed almost immediately by the conversation that had come afterward. At the time she'd assumed she'd interrupted his day. Looking back now, she wondered if that conversation had marked the beginning of this path all along.

She folded her hands neatly behind her back, standing a little taller as the remaining assignments were completed. Pride swelled quietly in her chest, tempered by the understanding that graduation wasn't the end of anything. If anything, it felt like the first real step. She had arrived at Aurora Station hoping to prove she belonged. Now, as she stood beside the High Commander of the Lilaste Order, she realized belonging had never been the destination. It was something she intended to earn, one day at a time.

Laphisto