(NJO Book II) Demonstration

The initiates watched the duel stall to a near standstill. Their two instructors clashed their weapons again with a flash of yellow light, before breaking away, obviously winded. They watched each other closely for an opening. Nokori's eyes narrowed: she had learned the rhythm of Aemos' Soresu defense. He was as perceptive a duelist as he was a teacher; she knew that she had become too easy to read. If she wanted to end the fight, she had to be unpredictable and decisive. She had to surprise. With an uncharacteristic lack of caution or forethought, she chose her next attack.

She feinted, then channeled the momentum into a spinning leap over his left shoulder. His lightsaber rose to meet her, but she deflected the blow as she passed over his head, directing the blade down and to the left. The moment she landed, she pushed forward, stepping into his personal space, blade held close and tight. Her blows were furious and fast, and Aemos' guard put him on the backfoot just to survive them. 

She saw the look in his eyes. 

Betrayal. No, offense. He must have not known. 

So, Master Skywalker didn't tell the others. 

She saw her opening, and took it. While Aemos was concentrating on blocking her strikes, she turned sharply on her foot, and caught him with a kick at his grounded leg. With her blade pushing him to retreat, and her kick stopping his backstep, he had no choice but to fall backwards to the ground. The tip of her saber illuminated his glowering face.

"I yield," He growled, fangs bared.

She helped him to his feet, and he frowned in her direction.

"Vaapad?"

She nodded, expecting the question, and the accompanying accusatory tone.

"Yes," she said simply, assuring him, "with Master Skywalker's permission."

He set his jaw, eyebrows furrowed. "Is it wise to showcase forbidden arts to your students, Jedi Imani?"

She hesitated, glancing at the watching initiates, only some of whom had recognized what she'd done. Her heart sank, and she immediately regretted her choice of tactics. Why did she let her competitive edge take over? As she began a cautionary explanation of her winning move, however, she tried to ignore the slight note of pride she felt. Aemos had treated her like he'd treated everyone else—which is to say, she had spent weeks alongside her colleague learning that he is equally short-tempered, dismissive, and critical to his equals, as well as the students—but his critiques felt all the harsher when their task, raising an academy of Jedi, was so monumental. She worked daily to discipline away whatever indignation she felt towards his moods and accept the worthwhile criticism from his feedback.

But privately, and she would admit this to no one, it had been nice to knock him on his back with a technique only she had been allowed to learn.

"No," she admitted.

Aemos only grunted in reply. They bowed to one another to conclude the duel, and he returned to the steps, expression tight, a slight limp in his gait. And his pride.

As Katch started asking a question about Form 7, she inwardly sighed at her own stream of arrogant thought. She would need to meditate on this later.

"You're right, Katch. If an aggressive approach is necessary for the situation, Ataru is a far wiser route to take, but it requires a keen attunement to the force. That consistent oneness can be difficult for initiates to maintain. I would recommend Djem So as an alternative to both, a form which Ela Wo has grasped so well. Ela Wo, would you mind demonstrating?"

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