Private Training The Basics

[Alana Calloway]

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Training The Basics​

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Location: Yavin IV​

Tag: Valery Noble​

Gear: HG-88 Big Iron, SD-L1 Long Blaster, Slicing Glove, Wrist Mounted Weapons (Hekler'Kok WMMW-01), DS-102 "Aegis" Personal Energy Shield, Personal Armor.​

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The jungle air of Yavin is thick with humidity, clinging to Alana Calloway's skin as she pushes herself through her training regimen. She's clad in her light armor—worn but reliable, built for speed and survival rather than brute force. The fitted plates shift with each motion, a second skin molded to her frame, designed to withstand the punishment of battle without slowing her down. It's a far cry from the ragged frontier gear she once favored, but practicality has won out over sentiment.

She's waiting on Valery, though 'waiting' isn't the right word. She doesn't idle. Doesn't rest. Not when there's work to be done. The moment she stops moving is the moment doubt and pain start to creep in. Instead, she moves. She works. She fights.

She starts with blade drills, her vibrosword shimmers with a hum, its blade shimmers with each precise movement. She runs through a sequence of attacks, each swing measured, each thrust deliberate. Footwork is key—balance, timing, momentum. The uneven jungle terrain makes it harder, but that's the point. If she can move with precision here, she can move with precision anywhere.

Her form shifts, strikes flowing into a defensive kata, the blades energy field crackling as she adjusts her grip. The weight distribution is different from the weapons she grew up with, but it's an extension of her now. Her control is near-absolute, yet she pushes herself to refine it further. Faster. Sharper.

She runs through the routine until sweat beads along her brow, trailing down her jaw. Her breath is steady, controlled. Her muscles ache from the repetition, but she welcomes the burn. Pain is just a reminder that she's still alive. Still fighting.

She moves into conditioning next. Pull-ups on a thick jungle branch, her fingers gripping rough bark, pulling her body weight with mechanical efficiency. Then push-ups, knuckles digging into the damp soil as she grits her teeth and powers through the motions. Then sprints—short bursts through the undergrowth, dodging between towering trees, leaping over twisted roots and fallen logs. She pushes harder, driving her body to its limits, until her lungs burn and her heart pounds against her ribs.

Still, Valery hasn't arrived.

She exhales sharply, stretching out her arms, rolling her shoulders. The bruises from her last fight still ache, but they won't slow her down. They never do. Taking a deep breath, she kneels in the dirt, forearms resting on her thighs. A rare pause, but not one of stillness. She reaches out—not physically, but through the Force. Letting its currents flow through her, steadying her thoughts.

A shift in the air. A presence at the edge of her senses.

She doesn't open her eyes. She doesn't need to.

She just needs to focus for a little longer.

The more she becomes familiar with her body, the more in tune she can be with herself.

So now she was here, trying to get familiar with her own body once again.


Trying to embrace the very thing she feared.

 

[Valery Noble]

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Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery moved through the jungle like a whisper of wind, her steps light against the uneven ground, barely disturbing the damp foliage beneath her boots. The air was thick, heavy with humidity, clinging to her skin and filling her lungs with the rich scent of Yavin's untamed wilds. But she was used to it.

Still, it wasn't the jungle that demanded her attention now. It was Alana. She caught sight of the woman before she fully stepped into the clearing — kneeling in the dirt, forearms braced against her thighs, her entire body coiled with something unreadable. Not stillness. Not peace. Something else.

Her fiery gaze flicked over the area — the discarded logs, the freshly disturbed soil, the lingering crackle of energy in the air from the vibrosword. Training. Pushing herself to the edge. Not just physically, but mentally. She never stops moving. Valery had known fighters like that before.

She exhaled softly, stepping forward, finally letting her presence be fully known.

"Alright," Valery called out, her voice warm but edged with something firm, something expectant. "That's enough warming up. Get over here."

The weight of authority laced her words, but not the kind that demanded obedience — it was the kind that carried familiarity, understanding. She wasn't here to waste time, and neither was Alana. Whatever was running through the woman's mind, whatever demons she was chasing or running from, the best way to face them was through the work.

Through the fight.

Alana Calloway ​

 

[Alana Calloway]

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Training The Basics​

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Location: Yavin IV​

Tag: Valery Noble​

Gear: Training Attire​

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Alana didn't move right away. She stayed where she was, still as stone, knuckles pressing against the earth as if anchoring herself. The air was thick with the scent of damp soil, the residual hum of her vibrosword still lingering in the clearing.

She rolled her shoulders back, slow, deliberate. A breath in, steady. A breath out, measured.

Then, finally, she pushed herself to her feet, the movement fluid but sharp with a controlled tension.

Her red gaze slid toward Valery, unreadable at first, but there was something there—something burning low and constant beneath the surface. Not defiance, not resistance, but a weight that refused to be shaken off.

She flexed her fingers once before reaching for her weapon, letting the weight settle into her palm.

"Alright," She said, voice even, but edged with something simmering just beneath. "What do you have in mind?”

 

[Valery Noble]

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Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery watched as Alana rose, every movement deliberate, controlled. There was something there, something simmering just beneath the surface — coiled tension that had nothing to do with exhaustion. She recognized it, understood it. And she had no intention of pressing into it with words.

Instead, she smirked.

"First?" she echoed, tilting her head slightly as her fiery gaze flicked down to the vibrosword in Alana's grip. "I want to see what you've got." She stepped forward, unhurried, rolling her shoulders before smoothly drawing her own weapon. The unmistakable snap-hiss of her lightsaber igniting filled the clearing, its violet glow casting sharp edges against the area around them.

"We spar," Valery continued, her stance shifting effortlessly into readiness. "No heavy strikes. No killing blows. I just want to get a sense of your style — what comes naturally, what you lean on, where you might need to adjust."

She smirked slightly, leveling her blade toward Alana in a casual but unmistakable challenge.

"You show me what you can do, and then?" Her stance lowered just a fraction, her muscles coiling, waiting.

"Then we really get to work."

Alana Calloway ​

 

[Alana Calloway]

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Training The Basics​

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Location: Yavin IV​

Tag: Valery Noble​

Gear: Training Attire​

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Alana's fingers flexed around the hilt of her vibrosword, feeling the familiar weight settle in her grasp. She rolled her shoulders, exhaling slow and measured, letting herself fall into that space between thought and action. The place where instinct took over.

Her crimson gaze flicked to the violet glow of Valery's saber, sharp against the clearing's dim light. There was a time she might've flinched at the sight, might've felt her gut twist at the memory of what that weapon had meant for her in the past. But now?

Now it was just another blade. Another fight.

A smirk ghosted across her lips, mirroring Valery's challenge. "Fair enough," she said, settling into her stance. Weight balanced, knees slightly bent, blade angled—not aggressive, not reckless. Controlled. Ready.

She didn't waste time with words. Instead, she moved.

Alana didn't hesitate. The moment Valery issued the challenge, she moved—not with brute force, but with the effortless grace of someone who had lived and breathed combat since childhood.

Her body became a blur of motion, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat. She didn't throw a simple punch; instead, she feinted high, twisting her torso mid-step, her foot snapping out in a sharp, testing kick toward Valery's side. The moment her foot touched the ground again, she shifted, flowing into the next strike—an open-palm thrust aimed at her opponent's center, quick and precise, meant to disrupt balance rather than wound.

Her style was unmistakably Echani. There was no wasted movement, no hesitation. She fought like she was painting a picture, every movement a brushstroke, every strike a deliberate expression. When Valery countered, Alana didn't resist with brute force. Instead, she moved with it, redirecting, twisting away, her body turning like a leaf caught in the wind—only to snap back with a sharp elbow strike that stopped just shy of making contact.

Even without a weapon in her hands, she was deadly. She wasn't just attacking; she was learning, trying to feel out Valery's rhythm, the way she reacted, the space she controlled.

It was an intimate thing in some ways, learning the movements and patterns of an opponent.

Alana finally slid back, bouncing lightly on her feet, eyes sharp, breath even. She rolled a shoulder, as if shaking off dust.

"That enough of a preview?" She asked, her smirk just a little sharper now.

 

[Valery Noble]

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Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery caught the movement before it fully formed. The feint, the twist, the snap of a foot aimed at her ribs. She didn't block it — not directly. Instead, she turned with the momentum, shifting just enough that the strike glanced off her side rather than landing clean. Before her boots even fully grounded, Alana was on her again, an open-palm strike shooting toward her core.

Fast, fluid and eliberate.

Valery smirked.

Her saber hummed as she moved, catching the strike with the flat of her forearm and twisting just slightly, redirecting the force away from her center. Alana barely lost a step, her body flowing like water, already pivoting into the next movement — an elbow strike sharp enough to be dangerous if not for the restraint behind it.

Valery chuckled, golden eyes glinting with something knowing. "You really do fight like an Echani." It wasn't a question. It wasn't even an observation. It was a fact. One that only made Valery more interested.

Now it was her turn.

With a sharp inhale, Valery shifted forward, closing the gap between them in a blink. Her movements were tighter now, more direct. A sharp parry sent Alana's sword just a fraction off-balance, just enough to open an avenue — she surged in, pivoting around the edge of Alana's reach to force her into movement, pressing the offensive.

The violet edge of her saber flicked toward Alana's shoulder — not a hard strike, but quick, forcing a reaction. The second it was met, Valery flowed with it, twisting low, a sharp pivot of her foot sending a sweeping kick toward Alana's back leg.

Push her, make her react. See what she does when she has to defend.

Alana Calloway ​

 

[Alana Calloway]

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Training The Basics​

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Location: Yavin IV​

Tag: Valery Noble​

Gear: Training Attire​

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Alana's body shifted instinctively, the violet saber humming far too close for comfort as it arced toward her shoulder. She brought her blade up in a tight angle, catching the strike just in time, the clash sending a sharp pulse through her arms. But Valery wasn't finished — the pressure didn't relent, and in the next breath, Alana's footing was already being tested by the low sweep targeting her back leg.

She dropped her weight, rolling her knee inward and stepping over the kick rather than retreating from it. It was a fast, graceful motion — but not without effort. She felt the sting in her muscles as she twisted, the ache of a hundred practiced movements beneath her skin.

Still, her expression didn't harden — it almost softened, eyes narrowing slightly, but not with frustration. With focus.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Alana replied, voice low and steady, the faintest curl of a smirk tugging at her lips. There was no boast behind her words, no pride. Just a cool, quiet confidence, tinged with something far older — instinct carved from survival, not tradition.

She was starting to enjoy this — not the fight, not the violence, but the rhythm beneath it. The unspoken conversation of movement and measure.

"I was taught to read intent before I ever read words," She added, matching Valery's momentum with her own, coming out of her cartwheel. "But something gives me the feeling you already knew that."

And still, something in her tone carried a question — not a challenge, but curiosity. Testing, yes — but not just to win.

She wanted to know what Valery would show her next.