Faith is the heroism of the intellect.
"Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. The fearful are caught as often as the bold." - Helen Keller
Maybe the third time will be the charm.
Another workout in an empty training room. Caltin had no fellow Masters around, no Knights, no Padawans, no droids, frell even the beverage cart was small. No, there was just him and some weights, a few weapons on the wall and open air. So he turned on what looked to be some odd looking black cylinder that lit up strangely in rhythmic reds, blues, and greens, pressed a few buttons on a datapad and walked to the center of the room after putting it down.
After it became clear that this cylinder was some sort of portable speaker and it was synched to the datapad (which was playing music), he began to move. It started slow, deeper breaths, neck twitches, head bobs, shoulder shimmies; it almost began to look like he was going to do some kind of dance. Frell, maybe he was. You might in fact say that he indeed was from the looks of it. No, there was no "ballet", or anything of the like, he was not getting ready to sprawl on a chair, pull on a chord and let a load of Elba water fall on him either. No, what he was doing was something unique.
His lightsaber ("Conservator" for anyone keeping score) was active. For every open air kick and punch he threw, it led into the next move which could include the weapon. It was difficult and contrived to explain without seeing it, but clearly he knew what he was doing. Valery Noble was "The Sword of the Jedi" and deserved the title, and if you asked him, Caltin would never truly try and take anything away from her in that regard. However it was clear that he was more than capable at what he does. If he could just get through a workout interrupted.
He was proficient in three forms of Martial Arts, but was by no means agile and it would be silly to assume that he was capable of performing the kicks in the manner that some of the more well known practitioners would. Seriously, the dude is six and a half feet tall and almost four hundred pounds of muscle. He's a friggin' walking Boulder.
I hate when you call me that.
You hate when I call you anything. The thing is, he's a brawler, but you can see the training in his moves and his style. It was nothing specific but a mesh of different things he has learned. There was a reason he looked like he did.
Come on in. I see you.
Unlike the last two times, he was looking directly at the person watching, something familiar about the guy. It looks like the third time would not be the charm... oh well.
TAG:
Brandyn Sal-Soren
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