[Solved] (NJO) Lesson IV: Combat

The problem was not that he hated the planet - he had spent plenty of time on worse ones. And while he was far from a true believer in the cause of the Jedi, his philosophical differences were also not the primary cause of his discomfort. Jun simply was not used to staying still.
Lounging, lazing about, napping - these were all well within his wheelhouse. But spending time around the same people every single day? Frankly, it bothered him. Every small familiar comment was another uncomfortable indicator that people were starting to get to know him, and he had been avoiding that for the last two decades of his life.

Fortunately, he had an escape. Those first few weeks, the initiates and the other Jedi were tied up in studying the Force, learning discipline, and hitting the books. He could shirk repair or cleaning duty and disappear for long stretches by taking walks out on the hills surrounding the Monastery, get a sense of the surrounding terrain. He could call it "scoping out a security perimeter" or something else important-sounding.

One day, RU-D4 insisted she join him. He tried to protest, come up with some excuse, but they were all quickly learning that the droid's enthusiasm overcame any obstacle set in her path. Jun would not have been surprised if she became force-sensitive just by wanting it bad enough. And boy, did she.
The entire walk, she grilled him about being a Jedi, what it was like, how you use the Force. He tried to give her the most boring stories first to get her off his back, but it didn't work. Even hours of meditation sounded enthralling to her.

"Ma-Riki told me that other people use the Force, too. Not just Jedi. Is that true?"

It was the second week, and Jun's fondness for drink meant his memory wasn't what it once was. He squinted across the fog-swamped hills, eyebrow raised.

"Who?" he asked.

The droid leveled her photoreceptors at him in what he imagined was a skeptical look.

"Ma-Riki! Come on, you know!" she waved her arms, servos whirring (she was often accompanied by a lot of whirring, Jun noticed). "The Shaman? The mysterious woman from the woods! She's about a quarter of my height? Long ears?"

"Ah, the ears one. Yeah," he nodded, and shrugged. "I guess it's true. Not much surprises me anymore."

"Oh, wow. What a cool, mysterious thing to say!"

He glanced aside at her, idly surprised at what he thought was sarcasm. Turns out, it wasn't.

"You've been everywhere, seems like," she said, awe at the edge of her voice. "Thank you so much for letting me come on your patrol! It's an honor to talk to a real Jedi. And such a cool one, too!"

He chuckled uncomfortably. With no idea how to reply, he just smiled and said, "Anytime."

With that, they were friends for life. He had to admit, the droid's enthusiasm could be infectious. It didn't hurt that she seemed to annoy Aemos, and Jun loved watching that happen.

Given his propensity to be reclusive, being friends with Rudy really opened up his social circle. She talked to everyone, after all. Soon, he was spending time in Ma-Riki greenhouse. He found things in common with the old Lannik woman - she was an outsider, mischievous, a bit contrary. She too laughed at anyone taking themselves too seriously, and relished taking them down a peg. Soon, that included him. Normally he wouldn't have let anyone pick at his brooding persona, his rude humor, or his violent past. But something about the way Ma-Riki did it felt more . . . educational than offensive.

"Maybe you and Suurm-Xachus are more alike than you'd wish! Relax, Jin-Wa!"

He connected more to the outsiders in the Monastery than his two fellow Jedi. There was just something that rubbed him the wrong way - old wounds, he supposed. Ma-Riki, Asa, RU-D4 . . . They were good for a laugh and a drink. Nokori and Aemos, on the other hand, spoke to him like he was supposed to be doing something he wasn't.

And then there were the initiates. Never in his life had people looked at him as a role model. He wasn't a good one, he thought. But the students were thousands of lightyears from home, living here in this drafty old castle to train to become Jedi, full of hope and faith and other stuff that makes for good students. Bright-eyed and bushy tailed, many of them.
They were going to get themselves killed.
That was a problem he might be able to do something about.

He started hosting sparring sessions, even before the actual combat classes began. Just little gatherings up by a spot he liked on the walls where he'd hung a few tarps for shade and made things comfortable. He'd never tried teaching before, but there was something about watching a student correct their swing or stop themselves from making an instinctive misstep that made him feel alive. More alive than in years.

He still wasn't sure about this whole Jedi business. The Jedi had taken him from his family as a baby, raised him to think he was better than the 'normal people' outside the temple on Coruscant. The galaxy didn't need any more people like that.
But he watched these students, and saw things in his fellow Jedi. Saw their kindness towards each other, how they took care of one another - of him, even. Saw their willingness to train, and study, and suffer to become someone equipped to help others. He saw Rudy treating everyone in the monastery like they were the only ones there. Aemos overcoming his past pain to lead. Ma-Riki giving everyone a dose of humor and music. Lynus' humble, head-down service. He saw Noko's love for them all, and her hope for the future.

Maybe the galaxy could use more people like that. Maybe he could help them along the way.

One night, months into their time on Ator Hollos, he went to dinner like always. While he sat at the massive table with the others, he looked around at everyone gathered. They all talked away, passing each other steaming pots of rice and beans, laughing at jokes, comforting each other from the day's struggles. His attention fell on one student in particular; the kid he'd brought here from Naboo. Meego. He was a clumsy little Rodian when they'd met, literally tripping over his own feet. The Meego sitting at the table beside the other Jedi was the same person he'd met then, but at the same time, totally different. Jun had seem him around the Monastery, practicing using the Force, big eyes staring at books. The other kids seemed to like him. He was really coming into his own.

"You okay?"

It was Nokori. She had a way of addressing you like she could feel your problems, too. She didn't, not by a long shot, but still. It made you want to be vulnerable. Not that he was ever going to do that.

"Yeah, yeah," he nodded. "Mind passing me that rice?"

She handed over the bowl. "It's something, isn't it?" she said, with a small, knowing smile.

He glanced back around the table, and he couldn't help but smile too.

"Yeah. It's something."

Later that night, Jun sat at his spot on the wall, listening to the evening wind brush against the windchimes. He glanced down into the courtyard where the students were heading for their quarters, the winding down of another day. Their farewells and 'Good night's echoed up across the stone walls to reach him. On the horizon, the last glow of light was sinking below the mountains.
He puffed at the pipe in his mouth. He'd made a pretty comfy spot up here. Not bad at all. If he had to stay in one place . . .

Maybe he would stick around, after all. At least for a while.

"Hey. Welcome to your, what is this, your fifth— fourth subject? You'll have just been with Suurm-Xachus, hm? Learnin' how to not cut off your own head. Valuable stuff. Worth practicing.

Self-Discipline's not really my bag, but you can never have enough practice.

 

This lesson, with yours truly, is the next step: Combat.
That means, y'know, fighting. Surviving. Winning—or . . . at least making the other guy lose. 

Now, you might've heard things. I'm not much of a Jedi. A bounty hunter, a tracker of men, an expert duelist, a scrapper in the ring; those are a little warmer. Maybe this 'make a new Jedi Order' thing is a waste of time, but if you're gonna be Jedi, you're gonna need to protect people. You're gonna have targets on your back. That means you have to learn how to win a fight.

 

First things first. Maybe you're thinking about how to use the Force in battle. I use the Force all the time. It uses me, too. Supposedly, that's how the Force works. It's a, uh, what do they call it—a 'mutually beneficial' relationship. The Force scratches my back, I scratch its . . . back.

Anyway, the point is that Jedi rely on the Force, yeah? Maybe too much. 

Sure, sure, it's 'our ally'. But it's not our crutch. So I'm gonna teach you all what to do when you can't rely on the Force, when you lose your lightsaber (it happens), so on. That means blasters. 

Hold up. I hear you. 'Uhhh, Teacher Jin-Wa . . . Jedi don't use blasters.'

How would you know? You're not a Jedi. Hell, I might only barely be a Jedi, but I'm more a Jedi than any of you. Sometimes, when the going is tough, you'll want to know how to use a blaster. 

 A true Jedi...is resourceful. We use whatever we have to. If some innocent folks are in danger of getting smoked, you're going to wish you knew how to shame a stormtrooper with an E-11. Would be mighty embarrassing if you didn't. Especially for the innocent folks.

Too bad Katarn isn't here. Man, has that guy got stories. When Galak Fyaar put on a big shiny suit of cortosis, Kyle didn't beat him by hitting him with his lightsaber. Nah, he shot him with the biggest gun he had, as many times as he could. 

Then he hit him with his lightsaber.

But most important of all, like I said before, is practice. Today, and every day we meet, we're going to run drills. We're gonna practice, and practice, and practice. I'll teach you to take hits and which hits not to take. I'll teach you to hit back. I'll teach you that sometimes you gotta run when the getting is good. We're going to get strong together, strong enough to protect each other and anyone else. Pair up and grab a training weapon. It's time for battle school."

Note to New Jedi Order Players:

Whatever your Jedi character might make of Jun himself, his training is shockingly effective. The man has done almost nothing but fight for nearly 20 years, and it shows in every practice session, piece of criticism, and instruction. He may, personally, be a wildcard (and honestly, a mess) but after a month to six weeks of training, every Initiate on Ator Hollos has been molded into a better fighter—hand-to-hand, blaster, and blade—than your average Republic soldier. 

The training is rigorous. Some builds may depict how destroyed each initiate is by this process. Some take to it easier than others, but no one escapes the grueling climbs, drills, and endurance exercises. Jun may be sarcastic and good-humored, but he does not take it easy. Every initiate is physically broken down, undergoing immense discomfort and suffering in the process (and likely a few broken bones) and built back up into competent warriors who duel each other to near stand-stills. They grow together, bonding in the struggle.

While Jun leads the training, this portion is important enough that Nokori and Aemos step in from day-to-day to take over, offer words of discipline, instruct in stances, talk anecdotal experiences, and do demonstrations. Their teaching helps compensate for Jun's loose style, but some students might still have more of his devil-may-care approach rub off than the other two instructors would think helpful.

The bottom line is that completing this training is essential to your Jedi character, and will have a radical effect on them as a person. This is where they start their path as warriors.

Under the bright red blossoms of the Bonyo tree, the Jedi initiates ran through Form 0 stances with wooden practice sabers. Jun looked on, arms loosely folded over his chest. Lyra and Brik were coming along. Both had developing styles. Lyra's precision, Brik's surprising grace.

And then there was Meego.

Jun sighed and walked over to the young, nervous Rodian. 

"Meego! Hey, hey, you're doing it again, my friend."

Meego blanched. "Huh? D-doing what?"

Jun reached in and tapped the wooden saber, pushing it slightly so it came in contact with Meego's chest.

"Bbbzzzzzt." Jun sounded. "You just cut yourself with your lightsaber. You're holding it way too close, kid." He got a look in his eye as an idea came to him. He reached down to the actual lightsaber hanging at his belt, unhooked it, and placed it in a shocked Meego's hands. The brilliant blade erupted in a flash of sound and blue light. It buzzed dangerously in front of Meego's face.

"Run it again."

The other students stopped to watch. Meego ran through the stances once more, hands shaking wildly. But this time, he kept the blade as far from his body as possible. 

A gruff voice from behind them only split his attention.

"Jedi Jin-Wa! What is this? Why does an initiate have your weapon?"

"Suurm-Xachus! Just teaching," came Jun's nonchalant reply. He grinned, calling out encouragement. "No distractions, Meego! Focus on what you're doing. Ignore everything else."

Meego finished the set and fumbled for the lightsaber's off switch. He muttered an apology as Jun had to step over and carefully reach in to switch it off himself.

"Sorry...How was that?:

"Still pretty bad," Jun shrugged. "But nowhere near as bad as before." 

He patted the young Rodian on the shoulder, stepped back to his position, and barked out the signal to continue. Once again, the Initiates snapped into action, and while now Meego was overcorrecting, he wasn't cutting off his own arm. Jun took a bite of a Bonyo fruit from the tree.

Aemos stood to his left, severe and imposing. 

"That recklessness was dangerous," he growled.

Jun smiled through a juicy mouthful of Bonyo. "That recklessness worked."

"Interesting . . . flavor."

Lynus stared dubiously into his cup at the frothing, fizzy fermented milk Ma-Riki had served him. He had made a few brews in his time, but never had he braved the treacherous world of soured milk. 

"Yes, indeed!" the Lannik woman cackled. "Good for your guts!"

Jun eyed him, arms folded. "What do you say, old man?"

The groundskeeper did not speak. His craggy face looked exactly as it always did—like he'd rather be elsewhere. His expression betrayed nothing. Jun glanced warily aside to Ma-Riki. So far, it was going better than with Katch, who threw up on the spot.

Finally, Lynus' chin tilted in the slightest of nods.

 ". . . It's quite . . . Horrible. But . . . I would drink more."

Jun breathed a sigh of triumph. Ma-Riki elbowed him, grinning.

"I told ya! Never a doubt in my mind. It's  an amazing batch! Best yet!"

"I don't know how you did it," Lynus muttered, taking another sip. "The curds are awful, and yet . . . And you two worked together on this? Best not let the others know. Can't see Aemos being pleased, especially if the students catch wind."

"Rudy helped too."

"Oy, now, that droid is impressionable. Leave her out of your . . . shenanigans."

They swore up and down to do so with no intention of carrying through. They ignored Meego when he asked where Rudy was, as she normally helped with his repair duties and he wasn't looking forward to doing it all himself.

They returned to their hidden still later that afternoon to find RU-DY sitting in the dark, stone-walled closet, happily threshing grains.

"Oh, hi! Just getting ahead on these grains."

"Rudy, maybe you should go get some sun," Jun frowned.

"Nahhh! I want to help! This is a big deal! How did Lynus like it? Did he say it was good?"

Ma-Riki couldn't contain herself. She burst into an excited grin. "Couldn't get enough of the stuff! The old codger loves it!"

This delighted Rudy beyond words.

"Then we've got to make more! I'll be here, night and day, making more batches! And to the exact specifications! I know I can't make art, as a droid. But I'm really good at math, and this is also kinda a science, y'know. And you're sure it's not damaging your laser sword to use it to stir the mixture?"

"Of course not. It's just the blade. Gives it that special oomph," Jun replied offhandedly. "But I'm not letting you borrow my lightsaber, kid."

"Please! I'll be careful!"

Jun shook his head firmly. 

"Oh, c'mon, Jin-Wa! She said she'd be careful," Ma-Riki admonished him.

"Not happening. Y'know, glad the batch turned out and all, but maybe we should pump the breaks. The old man is right; Suurm-Xachus would go straight to anger and hate if he knew about this. Especially the lightsaber thing. Can't imagine he'd love that."

They all went suddenly quiet, as they realized Meego was standing at the door, his black, glossy eyes wide. 

"Uh. Hello," he warbled, cringing under their gaze. "Hi, Rudy! I was, uh, looking for you." 

He trailed off weakly, and disappeared, darting back down the corridor.

"Meego!" Rudy called after him, her giant droid frame lurching to stand up. "Do you wanna help with our ruined milk pro—What? What did I say?"

Jun had launched into shushing her, but you can't clap your hand over a droid's vocalizer the way you can someone's mouth. His shoulders slumped. It was stupid that he felt the need to keep it secret from the other Jedi. Sure, the lightsaber thing wasn't exactly 'respecting a Jedi's weapon' or whatever, but it wasn't a big deal—there was nothing wrong with a little home brew, even for a Jedi. Oneness with nature, oneness with the Force, all that. He was already preparing his defense in his mind. Nonetheless, Aemos was more uptight than Jun thought a Jedi should be. And that meant lectures—maybe even arguments—if this got to him. Jun didn't mind in the least pissing the Hybolon off, but he could do without more lectures. 

He should probably go talk to the kid.

"You can go," Ma-Riki waved him away. She rubbed her hands together eagerly. "I'll start the next batch!