The High Court
Zak's saber lashed out, crackling violently as it glanced off his opponent's blade. It was just a feint, clearing away any defense so that his shoto could sweep in for the killing blow. Somehow, he struck nothing but empty air. The other deputy had contorted his body into an acrobatic dodge, and Zak felt a sudden surge of disorientating pain as his over-extension was exploited and an energy blade surged in past his own to score a hit. It was a simple training saber, as were Deputy Amroth's own, but it still sent waves of debilitating current rippling throughout his body.
Forcing his sparring partner back and mustering back his defenses, the young half-Kiffar spared a glance over the rest of the praxeum ship's training deck before wading back in to clash once more with his assigned foe. There were more Judges on board than he had ever seen before in his admittedly brief career since Dax Fyre had tossed him a badge over Echidna. But there were more than just his vigilante 'order', Jedi and Rogue Knights made pilgrimages from throughout the Rim to train on board the Judgment, trading knowledge with grey witches and stolid Jensaarai.
And then there were the Judges themselves. Zak had seen that there were classrooms his first day on board the ship, but he had never stepped foot in one. Everything he had learned so far had been knowledge of a most practical kind. How to pilot a military starfighter, how to hotwire a swoop bike, how to breach a star destroyer's prison deck, how not to get covered in plasma burns. At least, that was today's lesson. He hadn't quite mastered this one yet.