Jedi Training: To Dance or to Fall
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Narrative Section (Reaper)
Zz’ixx felt nervous. He felt anxious,
tired, but… he felt nervous. It wasn’t often he thought about the
reality of his lack of experience with lightsaber combat. He wasn’t that
skilled with it, or really even a talented fighter. It seemed odd,
perhaps, that a Verpine who was this far, like himself… wasn’t actually
that good. But the nerves bothered him, and yet…
He did well today.
Good form, even.
The
thought rang through his head, and he stared down at his stick-thin
arms. Fists, three-digited hands, tapped experimentative staccato with a
claw against the surface of the desk. Zz’ixx knew that the event was
chaotic - that of meeting after awakening so early in the morning,
meeting the intimidating Thrassk (whose droid head biting stunt, as well
as his claws, made him ferocious), the funny-smelling Astella, the
friendly and kind Elias, and the strange and mysterious Saigara. These
were, except for the scary Trandoshan… peers.
Maybe…
No,
they couldn’t be friends. Not yet, even as the fight, chaotically heated
from the rocks being thrown, and his own ineffective punch… and then
the blow at the end, delivered by him. Little noodle-arm Zz’ixx, a baby
who cried… Maybe…
Maybe he could be stronger, and help those out
around him. Earn praise, not just condescending thanks. Maybe he could
even perhaps be a hero, no, not just a hero. A Jedi! And a chitter,
pleased, left him as he considered the offer from Elias and Thrassk that
had been extended out to the group… Maybe it was perhaps time to study,
and to think.
To accept, even though it terrified him to do so. For he was one with the Force as a Jedi.
And the Force was one with him as a being serving Its Will.
Even if he was just an Initiate, after all.