Growing Older (Sol)

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her time aboard the Whaledon was always limited, but Loklorien s'Ilancy had - as of late - been spending more time aboard the Jedi's main training ship. Normally on the Valiant, she was all too often buried in clerical duties or other ship to ship paperwork. In a sense, her presence within the Wheel was a loan, as the bulk of her time was spent with Dan and the Dauntless, operating as his counsel and adviser. One might even consider it a step up from their days of hopping from planet to planet, system to system, with her functioning as his 'Jedi Guardian' as many had come to call her.

Of course, years go by and times change. She'd gone from her self-imposed exile to once more fall into place at Dan's side, only in a capacity that was far more militarily political, if one could even call it that. She had once made a joking remark to Sanis that she was for lack of a better word, Dan's secretary. In some ways one might consider that statement to be truth.

But the times that she was with the Jedi, though often short-lived periods, were never particularly marked with actual interaction. She knew hardly any of those within the Wheel with the exception of a few. Her presence on the Whaledon even was something short of a miracle. But aboard the Whaledon she was, having found herself in one of the hangars that had been converted into a sabre practice arena of sorts.

She sat along one of the far walls, on a bench that was less than comfortable. A few stared, but most went about their activities - what was it that they were observed by a one-eyed Jedi with cream colored robes? Most had probably never heard of her, and for that she was eternally grateful.

Her gaze wandered from dueling pair to dueling pair, analyzing in her own peculiar way the moves each student went through, executed, and blocked. A stray thought occurred to her, and the Lupine sat up straighter - an imperceptible shift beneath her robes. It was a strange observation, and one that she kept to herself.

"Odd," she whispered to no one in particular.

[Rev Solomon]

"What's odd, specifically?"

Solomon may as well have materialized alongside her. It wasn't his intent to sneak up, but he had such a quiet way about him, a holdover from his warrior days when Master Tau had trained him not to make any unnecessary noise.

He'd left his nerfhide coat in his quarters but had buckled on his lightsaber. Off to one side of the cargo bay, he saw one of the elder students patiently taking a handful of younglings through the basics of Shii-Cho, and he smiled at the sight of little Zyani Astaroth swinging her practice staff with an exaggerated flourish.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

His voice had startled her to a degree, but the Lupine showed no outward reaction at his sudden appearance. Instead, she turned her eye toward him, the corners of her mouth turning upwards ever so slightly.

"I see so much before me."

She blinked, then turned back to look at the gathered youngsters.

"But it is so different from when we were young, you and I."

In a way she was not surprised, and her next words were spoken quietly so that none but Sol could hear her.

"None seem to be learning Vapaad."

For herself, it was a plain observation, yet she knew well enough that her own training so many years ago had been unique in its' own way; no other student she'd known of at the Temple - before the Purge - had been taught that one method of fighting that had been so favored by Master Windu. Of course, that she had been Mace Windu's Padawan and subject to his leanings was not an unfamiliar concept.

"But, I suppose with the passage of time even our old methods become somewhat... antiquated... and too dangerous, to some."

[Rev Solomon]

"Even in the old days, most of the Jedi thought Vaapad was dangerous," Solomon recalled. He could still see her in his memory's eye, a graceful young creature in an inscrutable dance, weaving a shining ribbon of destruction that few could understand, against which even fewer could defend.

"I asked Master Tau once to teach me the basics of Vaapad. Just enough to surprise you at our next sparring session, maybe pick up a little more from you as time went on."

He shook his head. "He refused. Didn't think I was ready. Looking back on it now, I think he was right. That's a lot of aggression to keep a lid on. That's something I always admired about you, and about Master Windu. Your ability to find a balance between the darkness and the light."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

At that the Lupine lifted her hand to her mouth, attempting to hide a chuckle. The thought of him - all those years ago - wishing to unbalance her during one of their sparring sessions was... sweet. At least to her it was. s'Il let her hand drop to once more rest in her lap, and her smile melted into a wistful stare that was given to him.

"My dear friend," she started in a low, gentle voice, "Thank you."

She looked at him for only a moment longer before turning to those before them.

"It was so easy back then," she admitted.

"A child can do so many things that seem impossible to those of us who are older. Trust comes so much more easily, and everything is so much more simple; the line between black and white a clear thing."

A sigh, and she reached over to grip his hand in warmth.

"Everything is possible when you are young."

Another few moments of staring at those busy with their lessons, and s'Il turned to regard him once more.

"For as often as you and I faced each other, I cannot help but remember your peace. If there is one thing that I will never forget, it was your calm."

And indeed she could still see him, ever the resolute pillar of strength that continued to persevere. The longer she gazed at him, the younger his face seemed to grow, shedding age and the lines brought by the passing of time. It made her smile, and she slowly rose to her feet, her hand still holding his.

"Come with me," she grinned quietly.

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon tilted his head in an unspoken question and rose to his feet beside his old friend, towering over her.

"Now, I remember that smile," he said. "It usually meant I was about to get my ass kicked."

But he smiled back and followed.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Nonsense," she playfully admonished as the two slowly made their way past small groups of duelists. There was an open corner of the practice bay that she'd spied, and the Lupine wished now to use it.

"You did not always lose, Sol Iman, and you know it."

She gave his hand a squeeze as she led him on.

[Rev Solomon]

"No, not always," he allowed. "Just enough to keep me humble. Which was a chore back then, if I recall."

He slipped his hand out from hers and took up his position, five paces away from her, as if their last spar had only been yesterday. He flexed his hands, which cracked like old timbers, bringing a chuckle from the preacher. "It's been a long time, Lok."

His saber hilt, half again as long as most Old Republic sabers, found its way into his hand, angled downward in one of the classic opening forms of Makashi.

"Too long."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

For her part, s'Il shed her robe, folding it over her left arm with a smile.

"That it has."

In years past, she had fought with a conventional sabre, the blade an amethyst color - much like her master's. In fact, she had kept the weapon with her until that disastrous confrontation with Callomas Savoc on Dantooine. There she had lost it when his actions resulted in its' destruction.

Now she used solely the dual sabre gauntlet that she'd constructed for herself on Cathar. It was that constant presence on her right forearm that few had actually seen her use. Normally hidden by the wide sleeves of her robes, it was now in plain sight; a sleek and rakish weapon that she had styled after finding inspiration from Cathar weapons. Even if her self-imposed exile had been spent mostly in quiet and solitude, the Jedi was mindful enough to familiarize herself with the many methods of Cathar fighting.

In fact, her time among the felinoid peoples had been a boon, and her own training had evolved into something beyond what had started as merely Form VII.

To that end, the Lupine shifted her body to allow Sol one side of her. Her muscles were relaxed, though her eye upon him sharp. Her sabre-gauntlet she kept at her side as her head angled slightly downward, gaze never faltering from her old sparring partner.

And for old-time's sake, the Lupine grinned that very same grin she had always given to him before the start of their lessons together...

[Rev Solomon]

It was a familiar game to both of them: Makashi, which operated on straight lines, forward charges and backward feints, an active blade and minimal footwork, versus Vaapad, the most dynamic of the saber styles, aggressive and theatrical, full of circling movements and daring leaps that dazzled and overwhelmed one's opponent from all quarters. Solomon was the tall rock standing in troubled tides, and Loklorien was the hurricane.

Solomon's ice-blue blade flashed to life, and he swept it upward to deflect the first savage blows from s'Il's saber gauntlet. He'd never known her to waste time testing an opponent she already knew so well.

"The gauntlet's a new innovation," he remarked, batting the double-blades away with a sparking hiss. "You come up with that yourself?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She pivoted on her heel, a movement that brought her a whisper away from him on a path that would bring her around to his back.

"An adaptation."

Which was the truth - she'd not conceived of the design herself, but rather used the base of a popular sword style that many Cathar used.

Her simple answer wasn't much, and as she faced away from him, her orange blades came around in a backhanded strike aimed for his thigh. It was a predictable move, and one that Sol blocked easily. They held for a scant few moments, and in that time she answered him more fully.

"I'm hardly smart enough to think of it myself."

Another twist of her torso, and she broke away. Her body danced, as though the dual blades were her partners, moving around her body in smooth motions before she came to a stop, her body angled toward him, her sabre-tips held outward to the side.

Unlike before however, her movements weren't meant to overwhelm; rather they were to test, and as she darted forward once more the Lupine brought her sabres around in a sweeping arc, following the path her arm took with the rest of her body.

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon's movements were precise and economical, never leaving his feet, only stepping aside or back or forward to change the angles of leverage, to turn a direct attack into an oblique one, to force a more agile opponent to waste energy probing for a weakness that would never appear.

He gave away ground so their sabers did not make contact at the strongest point of s'Il's swing but the moment afterward so that the brunt of the force behind it went into the air instead of into his arm. His blue saber glided down the length of s'Il's gauntlet blades, threatening to sever her arm at the wrist, until s'Il twisted and pinwheeled his blade away. He swiftly inverted his saber into a backhand grip to block the inevitable counterstrike, and their blades stuck together for a moment, shedding white embers on the hangar deck as the duelists circled.

"You've adapted more than your saber," he said. "I'm used to sensing your passion in a fight. But you're more guarded now. Like you're hiding it."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"My passion still exists, it is simply refined."

She pulled her blade away then, sweeping it to the side as if to air it out. Taking a few steps back, the Lupine let her body relax as she rolled her shoulders. As she had done so many times before with Zem during their training sessions, s'Il let her body fall into a defensive stance, centering herself and anchoring her feet to the deck. Each blow of Sol's blue blade was deflected in rapid succession, the movements and motions of Form III - Soresu - obvious. Rather than attack, she let him come to her, watching and studying each move he made...

... and yet at some point during their trading of blows her eyes had closed.

Now she was seeing him through the Force. Seeing how it moved through and around him, how it guided his movements and actions. Colorful eddies painted a picture that was as real as if her eye was open. A ghostly smile touched the corners of her mouth as she parried, spun, blocked, and wove herself around each strike with fluid grace.

With a flourish, she darted away, pausing momentarily as they faced each other, her eyes still closed. Her chest rose and fell; she felt invigorated by an activity that she had once taken for granted.

"You've more muscle behind your blows than I recall," she admitted ruefully, giving a light laugh.

[Abarai Loki]

On his way to another piloting lesson with Inyos, Loki froze. There was a resounding crash followed by a long tortured sizzle. Then silence, after a crakling sigh of release, only to be broken again by an angry hiss. The young Jedi felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He turned on his heel and swept back down the corridor towards the hangar bay, and the sound of crossed blades. Sure enough, there was a cacophony of lightsaber noise coming from the hangar, but these particular sounds were made by deft hands; experienced hands.

The sight of Solomon and Loklorien s'Ilancy facing off drew him in, and with rapt fascination he watched their combat unfold, content for once to be late for an appointment.

[Rev Solomon]

"For a Lupine, you have a silver tongue," Solomon replied. "Driving eopies on Dantooine isn't quite the same as warrior training."

Now that she had turned to Form III, it was up to him to take initiative. It was a mark of the intensity and aggressiveness of Vaapad that Solomon had looked like the passive agent while exercising the duelist's form of Makashi. Against a turtling opponent using defensive-minded Soresu, his saber came alive, striking Lok's defense from above, the side, underneath, forcing her to extend, to open up her center.

He grew more aggressive in leading the dance, in threading out her defense, in seeking the lines of leverage that favored hammering force over speed and agility, but it was not until he shifted to a two-handed grip that he fully transitioned to Djem So. His strokes became tighter and swifter, forcing Lok to brace her parries or to give ground. Djem So against Soresu was a gambit of intensity against endurance. Solomon already had a sheen of sweat on his forehead, but so did s'Il.

"We're drawing a crowd," he said as they pressed blades. He'd noticed Abarai Loki observing them, but now the younglings had suspended their own practice drills and were gathering to watch the two warriors. "People are going to think we're a couple of show-offs."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The delight in her eye was the same as had shone through in those early years when they found themselves paired together, and s'Il flashed a grin as she shifted her stance.

"It is not so different from how we used to be," she reminded him.

And indeed, she felt taken back through time, to exist so many years before. They were young once again, drilling relentlessly, driving one another to exceed their own boundaries.

Her transition back into Form VII was swift and smooth, yet the style that she had mastered had become something more. Her body moved as the wind, eschewing the normal turns and leaps that were the hallmark of Vaapad for something more contained, more exact, and as she met Sol's blade time and time again, it was plain to see that she had become lost in the art that she now created.

The orange of her sabres ran in smooth arcs, sometimes acting as a counterbalance to her body's motions while other times they moved in concert. But each motion, each step, each strike was placed in such a way that while it was apparent that the style was Form VII, it had become something new.

[Rev Solomon]

Now she was back on the offensive, and he found himself keeping his saber closer to his body, giving up his advantage of greater reach so he could weather the storm of rapid, compact strikes that Loklorien was dishing out. This was Lok as he remembered her, the best of her: fierce, inventive, exuberant, more alive than anyone else he'd ever met. It made her an invigorating and terrifying opponent.

"I can sense your passion now," he said, grunting with every blow. "Your joy. Your exhilaration."

She charged and chased his blade in a spiral, forcing him to give up meters of ground. Their blades locked again, and her face drew near his, shining in the glow of the sabers and in the exultation of the match.

But all of a sudden, a cold feeling came over Solomon as he looked into her sightless right eye.

"But there's something else, too," he said. "Something I don't remember."

He wrestled free of the blade lock and stepped aside into the clear, his stance neutral, his mind now out of the fight.

"You're in pain," he said, softly, so the others would not hear.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It all ended too suddenly, and blinking in confusion, s'Il stood panting. Beads of sweat rolling down the sides of her face, she turned a quizzical look to Sol. Why? Why had he stopped? Chest heaving, the Lupine seemed to put an effort into standing up straight, her head angled back and eyes closed as she basked in the afterglow of their far too short match.

She'd felt young, fresh, untouched by the trials that she'd had to endure. Sparring with him had let her retreat to a world that she'd never thought to visit again.

She thought on his words, deactivating her sabre gauntlet before tilting her head back forward.

When she answered, her voice was as low as his.

"I am."

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon extinguished his own blade. He'd lost all awareness of the rest of the cargo bay - there was only his old friend before him.

"Why?" he asked. He stepped closer and, unthinking, raised a hand toward her scar.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She looked down, rubbing an impatient hand down one arm then the other, as if to clean herself of any dust or dirt that might have accumulated during their bout. It was a ridiculous notion, and she frowned.

"I am a mother who has lost her daughter," she finally admitted.

She ignored his hand as it drew near, but used the excuse of retrieving her robe to evade his touch. A sorrowful smile to him as she straightened back up, and the Lupine gave a pat to his still outstretched hand.

"It is not anything that anyone here should worry for."