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Thread: To Be the Best, You Must Beat the Best - 10.242

  1. #1
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    Complete To Be the Best, You Must Beat the Best - 10.242

    The target remotes hovered in the training grounds. The occasional hiss from a repulsor changing trajectory sounded like the hiss of an asp, poisonous and coiled with potential energy. Draiya's dark eyes traced the movements of each one. Serious as a gunslinger, she watched them path and patrol, waiting for her to step into their attack range. She would not be undone by these machines. She'd worked too hard to hone her skills, becoming a precise instrument of impeccable performance. She was faster and stronger. Her wits were sharper and more focused. Every challenge that she'd faced, she'd overcome by her absolute determination to triumph, and there may well have been one hundred droids available for her. Bring them all on!

    The Syragori padawan dropped into a crouch. Each of her hands held one of her shoto lightsabers. The blades were as yet extinguished. They would soon have their chance to shine, as would she. The near-perpetual frown she wore turned into a confident smirk. She'd seen through her opponent. The weakness she'd need to taste sweet victory once more.

    "Verry well. Let's begin."

    Draiya dashed, trailing her sabers behind them as the twin green blades sparked to life. Two droids began to track in her direction, peppering her trajectory with stun bolt fire. Too slow, rivet-heads, she thought. She paced them, daring them to take an unimpeded shot as she suddenly banked and rolled into an athletic slide, hurling her saber over her as the satisfying squelch of plasma meeting metal filled her ears. Immediately hitting the brakes, Draiya crouched as she waited for her thrown saber to drop behind her into her waiting hand. The other droids fired, a fusilade of bolts peppering against her defensive stance. One droid remote was hit, falling to the ground in a screech of frazzled electronics. Draiya coiled like a panther, pouncing another as she leapt in the air, a bisecting double slash from her saber shredding the remote in her path into slag. The final remote remained. Draiya rose to her full height, extending only one blade to simply deflect it's shots into the dirt. She extinguished the saber behind her back.

    "It's overr! You've lost!"

    The savage-faced Syragori spit into the dirt even as she swatted away a blast casually.

    "Stupid machine. I'm Draiya Naaianeya. You'll have to do betterr than that!"

    She waited for it to challenge her. When it was clear there was no more challenge to be had, she shook her head.

    "Well then, it's just not fun anymorre, is it? I hope they arre able to find all yourr parrts out herre after I'm done with you!"

    Her off-hand gripped her saber tightly, and she smiled at the sensation of a fist forming against durasteel.

    "Alrright, I hope you'rre rready! Herre it comes!"

    Another pitiable blast was snapped away by Draiya's lightsaber, and the Padawan pounced, leaping high above where the droid hovered. She twisted her body against her upward motion, the sunlight glinting off her deactivated lightsaber as she grasped it in a fist, raining down on the target remote with a Valkyrie's cry.

    "AAAAIIIIIIIII!!!!!"

    Knuckles slammed against durasteel and composite, sending the target remote hurtling to the ground. What had been started by the punch was finished by the force of impact with the ground, the casing of the droid splitting apart, sending mechanical innards across the training grounds.

    Draiya walked to where her last opponent fell, the sunlight hiding behind her looming silhouette. She gazed down at the droid's visual receptor, and crossed her arms.

    "Pitiful."
    Last edited by Draiya Naaianeya; Apr 5th, 2015 at 10:58:31 AM.

  2. #2
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    "Indeed."

    Loki was standing on the periphery of the training grounds, where the apparatus was stored. In the shade of a rippling orange canopy, he had watched as the padawan dismantled the trio of remotes with no shortage of gusto. One of the smoking husks had tumbled to a stop at his feet; it was kicked aside as he closed the distance between himself and the young Syragori.

    "A Jedi training with remotes is like an eagle practicing to fly. Droids," he said, with distaste, kicking another piece of scrap, "Pose no threat to even the most novice of initiates. For a padawan to be wasting valuable training time on such trifles is obscene. Draiya Naaiyaneya, is it your intention to languish in mediocrity or have your powers already peaked?"

  3. #3
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    The very timbre of Loki's chastisements brought Draiya to a halt. She clipped her shoto sabers to her belt, squared her feet shoulder length apart, and tucked her hands clasped behind her back. It didn't matter that the remotes had been set to their maximum difficulty. It didn't matter that she was training against more than were recommended for Learners. He could see through it all and knew that she was operating under her potential. It was a grave offense.

    Draiya's serious eyes were turned directly ahead and didn't dare track to Loki's own admonishing gaze. She set her jaw tightly.

    "Therre's no excuse, Masterr Loki. These drroids werre no challenge to me."

    And that was her frustration. She wanted challenge. She wanted the next test. To see if she had what was necessary to clear the next bar. It hadn't come from Drax or Chen or anyone in her immediate training circle. She'd felt the thrill of apex against Akasha only to have flown too close to the sun and come back to earth again.

    "I am an extension of my blades. They arre only as sharrp as I am."

    Draiya had been no stranger to Abarai Loki's harsh martial judgment before. She'd made the stew run to Miwu Shanma. She'd cleaned the eopie pens. She'd carried the Rock. If he placed her in the crucible yet again, she'd give up the slag of her imperfection to be forged into even harder metal. But she wanted more than that. She wanted to be the student without peer. The undisputed best Abarai Loki could rally to his disposal. There should never be any doubt!

    Her chest raised and lowered as she took deep breaths in and out of her nose, awaiting his further dressing-down.

  4. #4
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    "Then your blades are truly dull."

    Not a beat had been missed. Draiya was unflinching in the face of his reprimands. Lesser padawans - of which, there were many - would have scoffed or objected or wilted or blushed. If there was one thing that could be said of Draiya Naaianeya, it was that, despite her shortcomings, she would not have been out of place with him and his brother on Maridun. And that was a rare thing. He circled her once and stopped, staring, inches from her face.

    "Padawan, why do you want to be a Jedi?"

  5. #5
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    "Because verry few can!"

    Draiya's answer was a roar from her fixed and fierce expression. She had innate skill, talent, and drive. Anything else she chose to do, anything else seemed to be less than her calling. She felt the force. It worked through her. By degrees, it drew her into perfection for a higher purpose. Guardians of peace and justice in a galaxy that was short on both commodities. To be anything less than the maximum was not only to insult herself, it was to insult everyone.

    The Syragori's hands tensed into fists behind her. Abarai Loki was a paragon of martial virtues. The wisdom he had in his few years was a beautiful treasure. If there were ever to be two Jedi of his caliber, what wrongs would go long without being righted?

    "Because...I can."

  6. #6
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    "I'll be the judge of that!" Loki snapped.

    There was talent and there was belief - two of the three pillars of perfect training - but it was the third pillar that it was the most difficult to build without: discipline. Pickings were slim amongst the Jedi ranks, and the standards were low; disappointment was everywhere. For the longest time, Loki thought himself alone in his commitment to the cause, he considered himself an anomaly, a glitch. Could it be that he was about to be proven wrong?

    He stepped back and opened his hand, "Give me your weapons."

  7. #7
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    Steel found it's way into Draiya's expression at Loki's challenge. Then judge me! She relished the challenge. The metrics upon which he found so many other padawans wanting. Draiya knew that she would rise above the pale. Who else took their obligations more seriously? Who else was the earliest to rise, the longest to subject themselves to the rigors of training? Whether it be by the mettle of the sparring ring or by the rigors of the mind instilled by her master, Serena?

    Two hands moved as one, and Draiya removed her shoto sabers from their perches on her belt. Each was held before Loki for full inspection. To find a fault in either was to find a fault in her.

  8. #8
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    Loki's hand remained open, and empty.

    "I said give me your weapons."

  9. #9
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    Instinctively, Draiya's hands tightened on her shoto blades. Her expression was conflicted and roiled in introspective doubt.

    "What you ask, Masterr Loki...this means to surrrenderr."

    Something deep within her held her fast to where she stood, and her dark eyes moved to her blades. Did he mean to make her so small?

    "These arre the weapons of a Jedi."

  10. #10
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    "But you are not a Jedi yet."

    His eyes narrowed in a challenge, daring the padawan to suggest otherwise. She was reluctant to part with her lightsabers, even for an instant - it was a feeling with which Loki could sympathise. Her moment of hesitation made him reconsider his approach.

    "Draiya Naaianeya, do you trust me?"

  11. #11
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    Her knuckles seemed to blanch on the blade grips. They shook almost imperceptibly as she met Loki's eyes unblinking. Of course I trust you, you're my teacher. Still, there were things that had been instilled in her that made this so difficult.

    She suddenly adjusted the hold on her blades, turning the emitters towards her so that the grips of each were placed in Loki's hands. She drew her hands back behind her, trusting that Loki would injure anything other than her pride.

  12. #12
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    Once the exchange was done, Loki's gaze lingered on Draiya; for him, sensing feelings was difficult enough, let alone translating them, but he was convinced that, in that moment, there was not a drop of resentment towards him - and, from a padawan, that was refreshing. Had the tables been turned, and someone demanded of him his Jedi weapon, that person would've found themselves short a hand. This was implicit trust. It was important.

    "You claim these weapons are an extension of yourself? That is untrue. Can you give me your arms so easily? What about your legs?" He searched her face for clues, waiting for her resolve to come crashing down about her feet. "I have said it before: there is no greater warrior than a Jedi who is one with his weapon. It is not enough for you to recite these teachings. You must live them."

    He clipped Draiya's lightsabers to his belt.

    "When your friends ask you where your lightsabers are, you will tell them that you are unworthy of your Jedi weapons. This is not a punishment. It is your first step towards becoming a true warrior. Do you understand?"

  13. #13
    "Dick!"

    The word echoed from the mostly-built structures, and Hal smiled as he pulled his paws away from his muzzle where they had acted as a megaphone.

    I wonder what sandwhiches that crazy deli guy, has, today?

    That in mind, the yellow-furred continued his walk on his shortcut by the training grounds.

  14. #14
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    Despite her best efforts, Draiya gasped. Breath caught in her lungs, she grit her teeth as she watched Loki abscond with her lightsabers - the symbol of her commitment to the Jedi arts. Blood rushed to her ears and she could scarcely hear Hal's admonishments in the distance as her world fell apart around her. She'd trusted him to be everything she knew he was. Harsh yet fair. She did not yet comprehend how harsh Abarai Loki could be. He'd taken her everything!

    Behind her back, the nails of her balled fists bit into the flesh of her hands. How could she be so disgraced?? Cast so far down beyond her peers? The bedrock her foundations were built upon quaked, and he was asking her to start anew.

    "Unworrthy."

    She whispered the word, the air that seized in her lungs before coming out as a rattle. Blood ran from her palms down her knuckles and she felt no sting so exquisite as the one Loki had delivered.

    "What must I do?"

    This was not her destiny. She would tear down a mountain if only he'd ask it of her. Her lower lip quivered, and she bit down on it in resolve to show him her steel.

    "What must I do?"

  15. #15
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    Loki closed his eyes, as if removing the sight of the smug Nehantite could blink him from existance altogether. He didn't understand. None of them understood - except, perhaps, Draiya. He heard her pained words and turned on her his cool cutting gaze.

    "It is quite simple. You must take back what is yours."

    And with that, Loki turned, affording Draiya one last glimpse of her lightsabers, before he started to walk away.
    Last edited by Abarai Loki; Mar 20th, 2015 at 01:32:49 PM.

  16. #16
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    He turned his back to her, bringing to full fruition her shame. Draiya's eyes held a wild desperation as she at last brought her hands in front of her. Her fists opened, and she stared down at where nails had bit into her palm, the blood she'd drawn had filled into the hairline creases in her palm lines. Draiya could feel hot tears trying to form in her eyes and she blinked hard to dispel them. She'd rather die than show how deeply she'd been wounded! Eyes screwed tight, then opened once again. Gone was the vulnerability. Burned away to leave resolve in her intense brown eyes, staring down into bloody hands that became fists once again.

    "Not one morre second..."

    Her voice rattled as steam between clenched teeth. Draiya burned a hole through the small of Loki's back with her eyes. You must take back what is yours. Her muscles felt like durasteel cables, taut and ready.

    "I will not spend one morre second in disgrrace!"

    Draiya coiled and sprang. Lithe as a nexu, she sailed over Abarai's head, twisting about mid-air to right herself to face the gauntlet that had been thrown down. Impacting the ground, she dropped low into a three-point stance, propped by a fist driven against the packed dirt below. Looking up at Loki, she drew up into a fighting stance, fists slowly coming to bear as she popped her knuckles.

    "Abarrai Loki, I will take back what is mine...now!"

    Her feet dug in. Her shoulders squared.

  17. #17
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    Halted in his tracks, Loki considered Draiya, head-to-toe, with heavy eyes - indifference he had honed to a fine art. An eyebrow ticked upwards.

    "By talking?"

  18. #18
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    Draiya's features fixed in stone. She'd said everything to Abarai Loki that she intended to say. She watched his eyebrow tick upwards in mockery. Her eyes fixed to his lips as they began to move. The only thing that would stay her hand were the words of surrender she absolutely knew he would never utter.

    "By tal-"

    Time ran thick and slow as intent flashed in the Syragori's suddenly widened, wild eyes. Her speed was the wind, unhindered and sudden. Her power was thunder heralded by lightning. All of her defiance, focused into a fist, thrown by every ounce of speed, strength, guile, and will. It sailed so true...straight at the mouth that had cast her into dishonor.

    "KYIAA!!!"

    But Master Loki was fast. Faster still. In her heightened awareness at the cusp of the force's empowerment, she could see his head move just so. The displaced air of her near hit pressed thick and cold against the fire in her closed hand. In barely a moment - hardly a blink - Draiya's inertia carried her past her mark. She could still see his lips forming a taunt....

    "...llllkiiiiiiiiing."

    They moved glacially even as his eyes tracked her in passing. Draiya's eyes fixed on her mark in that frozen moment. Intent and hungry.

    Time exploded into the present once more as the hurricane unleashed. Draiya, undaunted, returned another strike upon another, pushing the brink of her ability to settle accounts the only way they could be settled, by feat of strength and force of will.

  19. #19
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    Left and right, Loki was pelted with fists like rocks. Draiya advanced in a ferocious passion, grunting and hissing at every near miss - how much she wished to do him harm. If he retreated a step, she advanced two at speed; her boots scraped mercilessly at the baked earth, kicking up a cloud about her knees. He pivoted another wayward blow, and redirected another. And when the opportunity was ripe, he aimed a lazy kick at her rear.

  20. #20
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    Every ounce of energy Draiya poured into her attacks. Speed, precision, and strength. All that the Syragori knew from her Jedi training was thrown into Loki's crucible as the heat of battle burned away what was false and collected the truth. An open hand sailed temptingly over where his face should have been. A spinning kick met with leverage to redirect her avalanche elsewhere. Every rebound an attack. Every miss an opportunity to strike true. Draiya chased her dishonor as doggedly as starving hounds took to a rabbit. Her cheeks and ears stung flush with indignation. Teeth pressed and bared in a war grimace. At the crescendo of her prideful outburst...

    ...he toyed with her.

    This was his answer? A half-interested punt to send her off-balance. Draiya scrabbled head-forward and off center, regrouping in a furious shuffling of feet. Her dark eyes cast back at him in outrage. A sudden burst of speed and she launched herself back at him once more, calling his name with her waiting fist.

    "SHWAAA!!!"

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