Private Teeth Lessons

[Maeve Linahan]

Maeve stood against the limestone walls of the temple training grounds. A soft wind was blowing in eastward, rustling the golden leaves of the ancient tree at the courtyard's center. Today, she trained.

Dressed in her normal robes, she waited for Jayce. She'd heard much about the "Too-Old Padawan," the boy of who still had been unable to receive Knighthood. But that was nothing new to Maeve. She knew many others who'd spent extra years in apprenticeship—all she wanted to know was why Jayce had as well.

Upon spotting him, hurrying down the temple corridor at a seemingly nervous pace, she rose up. Without a smile—as was expected of Maeve—she offered him a short greeting nod, her voice like a balanced blade. "Fairdawning, Padawan Rotsu."

Dismantling him with her sharp gaze, Maeve took particular note of his build and stature. He wasn't remarkably tall—they were about even in height, in fact—and he was neither very heavyset or muscled. He seemed perfectly ordinary. She wasn't sure just what the Jedi Council saw in him, but she would find out soon enough.

"How fares your training with your master?" she asked. Maeve was intimately familiar with Amani Serys, the two being what some might've considered friends.

She had received permission from her for today's sparring, on the condition she didn't maim the boy. Which was fine by her. Maeve was not in a dismembering mood. Just a bruising one.

Jayce Rotsu​

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[Jayce Rotsu]

Tag: Maeve Linahan

To say that Jayce was nervous was an understatement. Maeve Linahan had a reputation even among the Padawans and Younglings, who had little reason to know the comings and goings of the adults around them.

In general, she was seen as mirthless and, more importantly, ruthless. A Knight herself, Maeve was not known to take any apprentices, but the lessons she occasionally taught at the Temple were known to be unforgiving and harsh. Jayce had never been in such a lesson, but the whispers he heard were enough to convey what he might expect.

He made sure to be on his best manners as he approached her, bowing respectfully, as the temple instructors had taught him so long ago. "Fairdawning, Master Linahan," he said shakily.

Jayce was still sore from his training days ago with his Master. The droid Kayjay had left bruises, and his muscles protested if he pushed them too far. Which was unfortunate, because he was almost certainly going to have to do that today.

"Master Organa is very kind," he reported, clasping his hands in front of him. He settled into the wide stance some Padawans did when they reported to a Jedi higher than them, his head up and alert. "She is drilling me on the basics of lightsaber forms right now. I have a lot of catching up to do with the other Padawans."

That subject was still a sore one for him, but Jayce found it getting easier and easier as the days passed. He was finally an apprentice now. There was no need to rush to catch up. He would make it there in time.​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"She is," said Maeve. "You are lucky to call her Master."

Amani had healer's hands and the heart of an angel. She'd saved Maeve's life on several occasions, including from her most vile enemy: children. Nasty little monsters. If not for her, she surely would be resting in the temple memorial grounds by now, and she had the Jedi Councilor to thank for a great many things on top of that.

Amani possessed more kindness in the tip of her pinky finger than Maeve did in her entire body, which Jayce was shortly about to find out.

At the mention of the lightsaber forms he'd been learning, Maeve nodded once. "Great. Then let us not waste time with idle talk. Show me what you know."

Maeve leaned off the wall and strode into the open. The Great Tree loomed ahead, the wind whistling between its knotted branches and golden leaves. With one raised hand, she summoned the hilts of two training blades from across the courtyard. Not many other students or Jedi were around to watch and she and Jayce were given the entire space to practice.

Maeve faced the Padawan again, expecting him to have followed. "The game is simple. You come at me. Land a single blow and you may enjoy the rest of your day in peace."

She tossed him the training blade. "Understood?"

Jayce Rotsu​

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[Jayce Rotsu]

Oh, he understood.

He understood that, with those rules, he wasn't leaving the Temple courtyard today. Maeve wasn't an ordinary Knight, she was a Shadow. She dueled the worst of the Sith. Even holding back, Jayce couldn't hope to be her equal. He doubted he would even be good practice.

Yet, he accepted.

The best teacher, failure can be. It was an adage from long-dead Master Yoda contained in a holocron shown to most Younglings. Jayce tried to let those words comfort him in situations like these. He wondered what Maeve thought of Yoda's words. Would she have agreed with him? Somehow, as a Shadow, he doubted she would.

He activated the training saber he was handed and took a stance. Maeve had undoubtably chosen the training weapon—instead of letting him lower the power of his own—to put him off balance. On that, at least, he could prove her wrong.

Jayce took a measured step forward and slashed vertically at Master Linahan, aiming to cut her from her hip to her shoulder. Opening moves were already hard, but the one thing he'd learned so far was that strikes that covered a wide range of the body's weak points had a greater chance of doing something, even if that something was just forcing the opponent to defend themselves.

Tag: Maeve Linahan​

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[Maeve Linahan]

"You move slow," Maeve remarked as Jayce took a delicate step forward, before lifting her own training blade in a defensive stance. At his angled slash, she met it with her own, swatting it aside one-handed. "But you strike well."

She would have normally sidestepped his attack and tiptoed around the Padawan for the next half-minute, watching as they futilely tried to hit her only to grow increasingly more frustrated and exhausted. But Jayce was different. Surprisingly, he didn't fall into that category. He had a general understanding of opening moves and what to expect.

He trained well. Better than she anticipated, despite the rumors.

"Master Organa's certainly shown you a thing or two." Still wearing her usual resting grimace, Maeve spun around him and cut her blade through the air. If the boy was not fast enough, the flat side of her training sword would smack into his hip. "But what lightsaber forms has she taught you? What do you feel you excel at most?"

She took several light steps back. "Try them on me."

Jayce Rotsu​

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[Jayce Rotsu]

Once more, Jayce found himself woefully on the backfoot. What saber forms had he learned? Shii-Cho, and that was as a Youngling.

Only... that wasn't entirely true, was it?

Kayjay had shown him the basics of Makashi; and by "shown him," he more meant 'beat it into him.' Still, the demonstration was enough for Jayce to make a couple of key observations he could incorporate into his style.

He lunged forward like a fencer and aimed a series of practiced stabs at Maeve's center-of-mass, waist, and thighs respectively. The key to Form II was a series of quick jabs and then a retreat, which he made by dancing backwards and bringing his blade up to intercept any parries or ripostes. His movements were not as graceful as a Makashi master, nor were they as ruthless as Kayjay's had been. But he was slowly getting the hang of the form.

He quietly hoped Maeve would teach him another. Though Form II was good for lightsaber duels, flashy and graceful were not his style. There was nothing flashy and graceful about him at all.​

Maeve Linahan​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"Makashi?" Maeve said with a flash of interest. "Good choice."

She swatted aside his practiced jabs with incredible ease. Despite her swift reflexes and superior strength, Jayce had proven to be a surprisingly quick learner, showcasing more talent than she'd expected. But there was still a long way to go. She could spot one or two holes in his openings, and when he pushed too closely, Maeve exploited them.

She cracked her blade against his shoulder, then took two steps back. "Not much experience, perhaps, but you have acres of potential. I can see what Master Organa saw in you."

Maeve flourished her blade and circled around him. "I would be happy to show you other forms. Ataru, the Way of the Hawk-Bat. Vaapad, the Way of the Vornskr." Forms she practiced often. She'd always been a predominantly offensive duelist, to the surprise of no one. "However, I am not your master. I am just an instructor, and right now, your opponent."

Maeve spun around him like a whirlwind. She feinted several blows, if only to test his defenses, before she brought her training sword low to his calf, intending to force him to one knee.

Jayce Rotsu​

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[Jayce Rotsu]

"Vaapad?" he said aloud.

The revelation that Maeve knew the special form created by Mace Windu himself stunned Jayce almost enough to earn him a strike from her blade. He ducked it at the last second and was forced to quickly block her incoming attacks; yet what she had said was not lost on him. Of course a Shadow would know such a form. It was the ultimate lightsaber form for one destined to fight the dark and use its own darkness against it.

Quickly, Jayce thought of a plan. A risky plan—but one that might pay off if he had the balls to ask.

He needed to learn more. But he also needed to remember how he achieved that state of surrender he briefly managed during his first training session with Amani. Achieving that state at will would be key to becoming a practiced lightsaber duelist, he was sure of it. Last time, it had only happened because Kayjay had backed him into a corner. Maeve was better than a droid, so if anyone was going to put him back into that mindset, it would be her.

"Then teach me as an opponent," Jayce said between parries. "That bit of Makashi you just saw, I picked up from watching Kayjay do it. If you come at me with Vaapad—really come at me with it, I might be able to pick it up faster than if you explained it to me."

That had always been how he learned best. Practice, not theory. He just prayed it would be enough here.

Maeve Linahan​

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[Maeve Linahan]

"If that's you want, alright. Just don't say I didn't warn you."

Maeve backpedaled again. Briefly, she shut her eyes, consolidating the Force inside of her, sharpening her focus to a knife's point. Vaapad demanded more concentration than ordinary Juyo. It was not merely a fighting style, but a state of mind. Maeve wielded a great deal of anger, there was no denying that, and she'd always found the lightsaber form her best means at channeling it, to use it for good. For killing Sith.

She opened her eyes. "Here I come," she instructed, then lunged for Jayce.

Maeve moved like liquid fire. Like a loose thunderbolt. Closing the gap between them in a blink, she rained a storm of blows on him. The right hip, then the left, from the shoulders to the knees. Wrath was her companion, and she acquainted Jayce with it by each and every strike she made. But even if by some miracle he was able to withstand her, she spun in a circle around him. Then, she brought her training sword to his throat.

Jayce Rotsu​

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[Jayce Rotsu]

Jayce had no idea what he had been asking for until the storm hit him.

This was not like fighting Kayjay. The droid was good, but its limiters kept it from truly becoming a weapon that could endanger a Padawan. Maeve had no such limiters. In the face of the overwhelming number of strikes she levied at him, it was all Jayce could do to raise his training saber to block one blow before the next one rained down.

Then, it was over, leaving him gulping for air.

"You certainly do live up the stories about you," he said. It was a thought he should have kept to himself, but in his current situation, thoughts and words blurred. He swatted her blade away from his throat, skidded back, and resumed his stance. "Again."

Jayce knew he could not win. Even if he trained every day for a year, he could not beat her. Maeve had made her body a weapon through years of fieldwork. And yet, he refused to leave here today until he learned something.

Muscles aching, he finally felt the Force open itself up to him; and so, he drank in the Power like a fountain filling an empty basin. It felt like it did before, though now that he was touching the Force, he could feel the tempest that Maeve had summoned. Next to her, he looked like a mere drop in a pond.

He lunged, doing his best to mimic her movements, the brutality of her slashes, the way she had crowded him from all possible means of attack. His display was far less impressive than hers. Vaapad seemed to require something other than surrender to the Force. Its aggressiveness warred with the Force's demands that he take a back seat to its commands. Yet he pressed his attack. The only way to learn was to watch... or to get beaten up in the process.

Maeve Linahan​

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[Maeve Linahan]

Maeve didn't acknowledge his remark about her reputation. The stories others told about her were irrelevant. When her enemies told them, they could be useful. When her allies told them, they could be creepy. She cared more about the resolve she was hardening onto the Padawan's face. She hadn't thought much of him at first, but the determination she saw there now was… an improvement.

So, when he beckoned her to charge him again, she didn't spare words.

She just nodded and lunged.

This time when she touched the Force she drank it in like a storm might hot and cold air. It charged her like electricity, unlocking every negative emotion she had experienced over the course of her storied career. But instead of harnessing these emotions as a Sith might, she whirled her lightsaber in a loop and let the direction of the blade carry them in an arc, building until she unloaded a flurry of slashes at the young Padawan.

Maeve was uncompromising and unrelenting. Had her lightsaber been in its normal settings, any one of her blows could have killed Jayce. She debated whether or not this "lesson" was even effective. She hadn't the faintest clue how to teach Vaapad to the boy. But since he insisted he could learn by watching, she was certainly going to show him; even if this little display was more likely to knock him out cold.

Jayce Rotsu​

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[Jayce Rotsu]

Jayce was so utterly outmatched he could have laughed.

Maeve wasn't just better than him, she was better than anyone he'd seen. In that moment, she was a butcher, and a whole mound of dead Sith loomed behind her. She could have killed the whole Sith Order. He thought that sounded plausible after what he was seeing. What he was forced to defend against. He was afraid, the raw coldness of her power knifing to his bones, freezing the marrow to icicles.

And then, just as he had before, he touched the Force.

His lightsaber came up so fast, he nearly didn't recognize it as his own. He stopped simply parrying her blows and instead, started reflecting the negativity in them. He didn't know how he was doing it. It was like all the rage she looped in her blows transferred like water from her blade to his, and he simply redirected its flow, like a dam to a river. And for that brief instant, Padawan and Knight fought on even terms.

It lasted seconds. Less than that. His body wasn't accustomed to using the Force in such an unorthodox way, and it slipped from him moments after he had grasped it. Then, it was like grasping at falling straws. Each desperate reach pushed it further down and away than it had been. Maeve kicked into him hard, and that was that. He was flat on his back.

"That was how you did it?" he asked, panting. "You don't... use them? The emotions— That would be using the dark side. So you just... Send them back?"

He thought he was understanding, but he looked to Maeve for guidance.

Maeve Linahan​

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[Maeve Linahan]

"You're very observant."

Maeve loomed over him and flourished her training blade. For a Jedi Padawan, he'd lasted longer than most. Only a second, but every second made was an improvement worth noting. For a boy supposedly mocked by his peers for his age and inexperience, she didn't see the merit in their claims. He had skill. Acres of potential.

One day, he would serve as a fine Jedi Knight.

Maeve circled around and nodded. "Vaapad is not merely a fighting style. It is a state of mind. You not only reflect back your opponent's fury and rage, but you mirror it. You accept it. The Dark Side is a cold and dangerous sea, and if you want to master it in a fight, you must learn how the tides move." It was a strange and bewildering metaphor, perhaps. But one taught by her master long ago.

Practitioners walked perilously close to the Dark Side when they used Vaapad, and sometimes, it required one's own pain and rage in order to most amplify it. And Maeve… she was always angry. Always wrathful.

Maeve drifted to the courtyard's edge and set aside her training blade. "That is enough for today. I had considered dragging this game out until sundown, but I think you've learned enough. Keep practicing, Padawan. You may be able to score flesh in no time." She cast the boy a remarkably rare smile from over her shoulder, then turned and left.

Jayce Rotsu​

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