C14 Sparring Yoda
C14 Sparring Yoda
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(A/N: 2 chapters again! Also, I'll be doing 4 chapters on patréon again today, if anyone is interested :)
Peter awoke with a start, the remnants of the previous night's strange events still clinging to the corners of his mind. The room was quiet, too quiet, and for the first time in what felt like ages, he didn't sense the familiar, albeit intrusive, presence of his Jedi-mandated stalker.
Could it be that Grandmaster Yoda had finally called off the surveillance? The thought brought a flicker of hope, but he dared not get too excited just yet.
Suddenly, the realization that he was running late for his classes jolted Peter out of his bed. With a flurry of motions, he dressed hastily, his mind racing with thoughts of Revan, the training to come, and the eerie calm of the morning.
As he bolted out of his room, his only focus was on making it to class on time, the peculiar silence of the Force around him pushed to the back of his mind.
Throughout the day, Peter found himself accompanied by Aayla, whose presence had become a constant in his life at the temple.
As the day continued, filled with both training and studies, Peter couldn't help but notice the continued absence of his shadowy stalker. This absence, he mused, might just signify that he was finally free from the weight of Yoda's suspicions. It was a liberating thought.
However, amidst his thoughts, Peter found himself sidelined during a sparring session. As he watched the younglings engage with their training sabers, his expertise in combat setting him apart, a sense of isolation crept in. It was then, in the midst of his distraction, that he noticed the small, green figure seated beside him. Yoda, silent and as inscrutable as ever, had somehow joined him without notice.
Yoda's smile was knowing, almost as if he could read the tumultuous thoughts swirling within Peter. "Training, why are you not?" he asked, his voice tinged with that characteristic wisdom and curiosity.
Peter shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to answer a question that Yoda probably already knows the answer to. "None of the knights or masters are here today, and the teacher can't spar with me since he has to instruct the class," he responded, feeling somewhat childlike under Yoda's gaze.
The Jedi Master nodded, his expression unreadable. Then, with a grace that belied his age, Yoda hopped down from his seat, gesturing for Peter to follow. "Train with you, I will today," he declared, setting off with a pace that demanded Peter hustle to keep up.
…
In an open part of the training ground, a palpable air of anticipation settled over the class as Geandmaster Yoda strolled over and used the Force to summon two training sabers.
With an effortless flick of his wrist, one saber soared through the air towards Peter, who caught it with a mixture of excitement and anticipation. After all, his lightsaber spars with Yoda were always the hardest.
As Yoda caught his own saber, its light casted a soft glow over his features as he ignited it. Stood across from Peter, he adopted a stance of serene readiness, signaling for Peter to make the first move. "Wait for you, I am…"
The excited younglings, together with their teacher, formed a wide circle around the two combatants. Their eager chatter and wide eyes reflected the rarity of the spectacle unfolding before them—a duel between the legendary Jedi Grandmaster and the mysterious newcomer hailed as the chosen one, though the children didn't know that last particular detail.
Peter, smirking with a blend of confidence and anxiety, ignited his saber. The azure blade hummed to life, casting a radiant light across his determined features. He crept forward, each step measured and cautious, fully aware of the formidable opponent before him.
In an instant, the duel commenced as Peter launched himself forward, unleashing a series of swift, calculated strikes, each one aimed with precision but met with Yoda's effortless parries.
The clashing of their sabers echoed through the training ground, the crowd watching in rapt attention. "…"
Peter's movements were fluid and confident, a testament to all of his hard work. For a split second, he managed to weave a complex pattern of attacks, pushing Yoda to retreat and defend, showcasing his skill and earning impressed murmurs from the onlookers.
For the first part of the spar, Yoda seemed to limit his responses, allowing his opponent to display the extent of his prowess while simultaneously doing just enough to push Peter to the absolute limit, bringing out every drop of his potential.
The young Star-Lord, bolstered by the challenge, executed a particularly daring leap, empowering his legs through the force as he aiming a downward strike from above Yoda, slashing at his head.
"Not bad, hmm…" Yoda commented, his featured calm and collected.
In a display of agility that contradicted his small, fragile-looking stature, Yoda flipped to the side, using the Force to enhance his movement, and lightly tapped Peter's shoulder with his saber, marking a point in a true sparring match.
As the duel progressed, the tone shifted. Yoda's demeanor changed subtly, an almost imperceptible shift that signaled he would no longer hold back. With a sudden burst of speed, Yoda launched into an offensive, his body a blur of motion.
His saber moved with such precision and swiftness that Peter found himself overwhelmed, barely able to defend. Each strike from Yoda was a lesson in itself, teaching through the pure, refined essence of combat.
Peter, despite his best efforts, could not match the intensity of Yoda's assault. The Grandmaster's technique was unparalleled, a perfect blend of power, speed, and wisdom honed over centuries.
With a final, masterful maneuver, Yoda disarmed Peter with a swipe of his sword, sending his saber spinning away before crashing to the ground.
"Over, it is." Yoda nodded, extinguishing his training saber.
The duel ended as swiftly as it had begun, leaving Peter breathless and beaten, yet filled with respect and admiration for the little Jedi Grandmaster.
The younglings erupted into cheers and applause, marveling at the spectacle they had just witnessed. Yoda, however, simply offered Peter a knowing smile, one that spoke volumes of the lessons embedded in their encounter.
"Much to learn, you still have," Yoda said, his voice gentle yet carrying the weight of undeniable truth. "But potential, great potential in you, I see."
Peter, picking up his saber, and bowed his head, his earlier confidence replaced by a humbled gratitude. "Thank you, Master Yoda. I've got a long way to go, so I'll continue to work hard…'
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Leaving the younglings to continue their training under the watchful eye of their instructor, Grandmaster Yoda stepped out into the cool, shadowed hall of the Jedi Temple.
Awaiting him, stationed discreetly to the side of the corridor, was a Jedi guard clad in pristine white robes, which covered his entire body, his posture one of respect and readiness. As Yoda approached, the guard immediately knelt, lowering his head in a gesture of deference to the venerable master.
Yoda paused, his eyes momentarily closing as if to read the air itself. When he spoke, his voice was as calm as the still surface of a remote lake. "Rise, you may. Follow Youngling Quill, you need no longer," he instructed, his words carrying the weight of a final decision.
Originally, Yoda set a watcher on Peter simply because he felt something off and didn't want to risk any complications with the Chosen One. But after today's encounter, and the many reports of Peter's mundane movements, he saw nothing that would warrant a further invasion of privacy.
Yes, Peter's attachment to music was worrying, but not overly so. Music is an art and Yoda has no problem with such a small indulgence.
Of course, not everyone would agree with him, which was why he didn't report any of Peter's information to the rest of the council, as it would no doubt start a heated debate amongst them.
The guard looked up, confusion momentarily clouding his disciplined features. "Grandmaster, are your worries... resolved?" he dared to ask, his curiosity piqued.
A hint of a smile played at the corners of Yoda's mouth, his gaze distant, recalling the intensity of the training session. "Seems, my concerns were for naught, hmm…"
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The day progressed with the weight of a starship on Peter's shoulders, the aftermath of his spar with Yoda lingering in every muscle. 'I need to get stronger…' He thought as his body ached, though It wasn't the kind of ache that came from a solid hit; it was deeper, born from stretching the limits of his Force abilities, pushing his body beyond what it was accustomed to.
"Ugh…" He grunted every few steps, each movement a reminder of his loss. 'At least it was a loss to Yoda and not some Padawan…'
If it was a Padawan, Peter might feel a bit disappointed in himself. After all, his current record showed 30 wins and zero losses against Padawans, 10 losses and 7 wins against Jedi Knights, and a hefty 62 losses and zero wins against Jedi Masters.
Worse still, the day's trials were far from over. As the sun dipped below the horizon of Coruscant, casting long shadows through the Jedi Temple's corridors, Peter was acutely aware of the night's impending challenge. His training with the enigmatic Sith Master awaited, a specter on the edge of his consciousness.
The thought alone was enough to make his head throb, a mental ache to match the physical.
However, there was a sliver of hope. The Force, ever his ally, offered not just a path to power but to healing. Seated quietly in his room, Peter closed his eyes, reaching out to the calming presence of the Force. It wrapped around him, a gentle embrace, slowly restoring his body back to top physical condition.
He could feel the fatigue begin to melt away, the ache dulling under the Force's tender care. And by the time he rose, Peter was renewed, ready to meet his Sith Master once again...
…
..
.
When the temple was bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, and the halls remained silent, only guards patrolling the area, Peter made his move, stepping into the corridor, the shadows greeting him as he vanished into the darkness.
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Descending the secret staircase that seamlessly closed behind him, Peter found himself engulfed in shadows, entering the depths below the temple for a second time.
"I have a creeping feeling that I'm going to regret coming here…" He muttered.
The corridor stretched out like the maw of some ancient beast, cold and unwelcoming. "Revan?" he called into the darkness, his voice bouncing off unseen walls. The silence that greeted him was oppressive, a stark contrast to the lively hum of the Jedi Temple above.
With each step, Peter's unease grew. The path seemed endless. Yet, driven by a mix of determination and apprehension, he pushed forward, navigating the twists and turns of the corridor with cautious steps.
Finally, the oppressive tunnel opened up into a vast lit chamber, which was so large that Peter couldn't even see the ceiling…
At the heart of this chamber stood a monumental structure—a pyramid-shaped temple that emanated a palpable darkness, its surface etched with ancient Sith symbols that seemed to dance in the shadows.
Perched at the pinnacle of this sinister shrine, a figure awaited him. It was Revan, his mysterious, ghostly Sith Master.
"Uhh, hey, Master..?" Peter, pausing at the foot of the temple stairs, felt the weight of the moment. 'This must be the Sith shrine he was talking about…' He could feel like dark energy radiating from it in waves.
"Welcome, my young apprentice, to your first day of training," Revan's voice resonated with an authority that commanded attention.
With a fluid motion, Revan drew a lightsaber from his side, which seemed to be real compared to his ethereal body. Wasting no time, he igniting it with a hiss that echoed through the chamber. The blade's crimson glow painted the shadows with blood-red streaks, casting Revan's surroundings in a sinister light.
"Remember when you called me Raven yesterday?" Revan asked, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
"Umm, y-yes?" Peter replied fearfully.
"Yes, what?" Revan gazed down at Peter in scrutiny.
"Yes master?" Peter answered, wondering if he should just run for the door already.
"Better." Revan nodded in approval before leaping off of the shrine, his lightsaber in hand. "Now, let the torture begin!"
A/N: 2070 words :)
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