The sparring match

The Initiates were now within the practice area for lightsaber training and other physical activities. A few Jedi masters stood around to act as both instructors and spectator. So that they may judge their growth and potential of being qualified to take the Jedi Initiate trials and become a Padawan of a Jedi Knight or Master. It was the eventual dream of every Initiate to be considered ready for that level, to be taken under the direct wing of a Master and further their standing in the Jedi and be taught ways to further increase their understanding of the Force itself.

Each of the Initiates went to the racks were the practice sabers were kept, and awaited further instructions. There were several types, made for the different types of lightsaber combat. Ones that were meant to be held in one hand, dual wielded in both hands, or double-sided, the Initiates were taught know at least the basics of wielding each type. However, they, of course, each had their own favorite type that they were most proficient in using in comparison to the others. Dorcol himself personally preferred wielding a simple, one-handed lightsaber. It was the most relatively basic weapon, which fitted someone as untalented in lightsaber combat as him.

One of the masters called out that today they would be sparring, and were free to pick the type of practice saber that they were most comfortable with. Dorcol picked up the practice saber from the rack, and felt its weight in his hand. He had wielded one whenever he could, but for some reason, it felt heavier today. He gripped its handle, and stood back into the line with the other Initiates as they each took their practice sabers as well.

They were all randomly selected a partner, and one by one, each pair had their spar while the rest watched and observed. There was a clear difference in the forms of some of them, particularly the ones who had been near Dorcol when he had his outburst. To them, they all knew now that this wasn’t simply about fun, or having to put down civil unrest amongst local planets when they became Jedi. No, things have changed. The Sith, the users of the dark side of the Force that they had only heard of in stories and in their studies have now returned. And they all had a silent understanding that soon, they may be called upon to defeat these old foes of the Jedi and Republic.

Soon enough, the other sparring sessions had finished, and the only ones left were Dorcol and his partner. She was considered the second worst lightsaber duelist amongst their group, only scoring slightly higher then Dorcol. She was a fairly attractive looking woman, not the best looking amongst them but certainly not bad. However, Dorcol’s personal feelings towards her were mixed. On one hand, the Jedi were required to abstain from sexual and emotional attachments, but on the other hand, the male hormones that flowed through him as a young man were as strong as you would expect.

His attention was suddenly snapped back to reality once the call for them to begin sounded. The two of them each began to slowly approach one another, keeping their eye on the other’s weapon. Dorcol’s partner was currently wielding a double sided saber, an especially dangerous weapon when used in the right hands. However, while these practice sabers were designed to not be able to kill, maim, or seriously injure those hit by it, it could still deal bruises and burns, and the pain that would come with them.

As they ever slowly drew closer to another, the gap separating them would only continuously become smaller. Dorcol felt his breathing become shallow, his pulse pumping through his body, and his heart beating furiously inside him. As they got closer, Dorcol couldn’t help but let fear begin to grip his heart as he imagined his opponent not as a fellow Initiate, but as a Sith. A wielder of the dark side of the Force, who could use the terrible powers and abilities that came with it to tear him apart from limb to limb.

However, as his vivid fear took his heart, he fought against it, the words of the Jedi Code inscribed into the deepest part of his mind washing through him. He closed his eyes, the worry that came with seeing and expecting pain would only distract him. He tuned out the background noise from his hearing. Soon, he had limited and restricted each of his natural senses as far as he could, until the only thing he could rely on was his connection to the Force.

There is no emotion, there is peace. The female Initiate’s practice saber hummed through the air as it tried to strike his torso. Dorcol couldn’t see it nor hear it, he simply sensed it through the Force and he blocked it with his own. Their weapons shot sparks across them, as the female Initiate began to lose her cool, believing that Dorcol was mocking her by keeping his eyes closed in the middle of a duel.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. His raw strength was greater than her’s, and he pushed her off and stepped back to create some distance between them. He then assumed Form II, also called the Contention Form as he waited for his opponent to charge him again.

There is no passion, there is serenity. When she attacked again, he did not meet her assault directly. Rather, he used his footwork and avoided her sweeping slashes while he countered with jabs, some of them landing their mark as he hit her. He kept themselves balanced as they continued that way for several moments. She would swing her weapon aiming for the head with wide movements, while he would avoid them and strike with concise, compacts blows.

There is no chaos, there is harmony. To surprise his opponent, Dorcol now went on the offensive as he kicked his opponent in the stomach, pushing her back. He switched to Form IV, also known as the Aggression Form. He leaped into the air, and swung his weapon overhead down straight onto the practice saber of his opponent, causing her knees to buckle. He continued his assault, striking her continuously with a burst of quick and furious blows. However, he could feel his stamina quickly begin to deplete, and sought to finish this as quickly as possible.

There is no death, there is the Force. However, this was where Dorcol had made his mistake. When he tried to swing one last blow, with his complete strength behind it and fully intended to end this, he left a fatally wide gap in his defenses open. His opponent exploited the gap left open to the fullest, and swung her weapon to counter his attack.

The combined power of his own swing and his opponent's was unleashed directly into Dorcol’s abdomen. He was sent flying backwards, his back scraping against the ground as he lost his grip on his weapon and it went skidding across the floor. He felt the hot energy of a practice weapon pressing directly against under his chin, and he opened his eyes to see his opponent standing above him.

“I-I concede, you win,” he stated, admitting his defeat and ending the match.