The training room had been sealed for hours, though Echuu had remembered to bring nourishment. Much like the training rooms at the old Praxeum on Yavin IV, the ones on Ossus also had elevated observation areas. The grizzled Jedi Master didn’t mind the spectators, though he did prefer for his own training regimen to be private. Several students had indeed gathered to watch Echuu push himself and his sparring partner to their limits. A fellow Academy instructor, Togrutan Jedi Master Arco Jeeth. A skilled in the more aggressive Juyo form as Echuu was at Soresu.
Sweat poured off of Echuu’s forehead, his breathing heavy and robes in various tatters from the combat. Arco stood in similar condition about eight feet away, each man’s gaze locked upon the other. The once-neat topknot atop his head had turned into a mess of stray hairs, several stuck to his face from the sweat. Echuu raised his blue blade once more, tightening his two-handed grip on the hilt, and set his jaw firm. Strong in the Force, he was at the point of using the Force Body technique in order to continue the fight. Arco was powerful, but his defenses left much to be desired from Echuu’s perspective.
Arco read the cues that his partner was ready and bounded to close the small gap between them, launching a flurry of attacks. Much like the flow of water in the room of a thousand fountains, Echuu remained fluid, smoothly blocking each attack as it came. Arco’s footwork was getting sloppy, and he had begun to make mistakes. While Echuu was bordering on exhaustion, there was still enough left in the tank to seamlessly slip from defense to attack. The transition was almost imperceptible to the untrained eye, the ease at which Echuu had changed forms. It all relied on economy of motion—the momentum that Arco had built up was turned against him with efficient precision.
Echuu took no mis-steps and pressed the advance, slowly backing Arco up. A look of grim determination plastered Echuu’s face, his two-handed grip had turned to one, his attacks concise and clean. Arco struggled to bat away them all, prompting one too many mistakes on his part. With a dull shout, Master No-Ainu flicked his opponent’s lightsaber from his grip, and held the business end just millimeters away from Arco’s heart with measured restraint, just long enough for Arco to acknowledge the defeat before disengaging the brilliant blue blade and letting his hands fall back to his sides at rest. He sharply exhaled a sigh of relief and let his shoulders slump slightly. ”Well-fought, Master Jeeth,” Echuu rumbled in complimentary fashion. ”I would offer to revitalize you, but you insisted upon testing our limits.”
The Togruta smirked, using the force to call his lightsaber back to his hand. Arco clipped it to his belt and nodded—still panting. “Indeed. Boy, I could eat a whole Bantha about now.” Echuu put his own lightsaber away and nodded in agreement, still short of breath himself. As if on cue, the pair plopped down to sit on the hard stone floor, both at the point of exhaustion. Echuu could feel his muscles starting to cramp up, not having exerted himself quite that physically in some time. Teaching the students the basics of combat was one thing, but furthering one’s training was another entirely. Only the likes of another Master could match his tempo and ability. Even then, there were few known in the entire Galaxy with his understanding and practice of Soresu. It worked far more frequently than it didn’t, tiring one’s opponent out and waiting for them to make the fatal mistake. But it required perfection of ability and incredible patience.
He could still feel the onlookers’ presence in the observation deck above them, but Echuu no longer cared. Rather, he hoped they took something of a lesson out of it. Many other of the Masters and Knights preferred to spar with training droids, but they had always seemed somewhat predictable to him; nothing compared to a truly sentient opponent.
Sweat poured off of Echuu’s forehead, his breathing heavy and robes in various tatters from the combat. Arco stood in similar condition about eight feet away, each man’s gaze locked upon the other. The once-neat topknot atop his head had turned into a mess of stray hairs, several stuck to his face from the sweat. Echuu raised his blue blade once more, tightening his two-handed grip on the hilt, and set his jaw firm. Strong in the Force, he was at the point of using the Force Body technique in order to continue the fight. Arco was powerful, but his defenses left much to be desired from Echuu’s perspective.
Arco read the cues that his partner was ready and bounded to close the small gap between them, launching a flurry of attacks. Much like the flow of water in the room of a thousand fountains, Echuu remained fluid, smoothly blocking each attack as it came. Arco’s footwork was getting sloppy, and he had begun to make mistakes. While Echuu was bordering on exhaustion, there was still enough left in the tank to seamlessly slip from defense to attack. The transition was almost imperceptible to the untrained eye, the ease at which Echuu had changed forms. It all relied on economy of motion—the momentum that Arco had built up was turned against him with efficient precision.
Echuu took no mis-steps and pressed the advance, slowly backing Arco up. A look of grim determination plastered Echuu’s face, his two-handed grip had turned to one, his attacks concise and clean. Arco struggled to bat away them all, prompting one too many mistakes on his part. With a dull shout, Master No-Ainu flicked his opponent’s lightsaber from his grip, and held the business end just millimeters away from Arco’s heart with measured restraint, just long enough for Arco to acknowledge the defeat before disengaging the brilliant blue blade and letting his hands fall back to his sides at rest. He sharply exhaled a sigh of relief and let his shoulders slump slightly. ”Well-fought, Master Jeeth,” Echuu rumbled in complimentary fashion. ”I would offer to revitalize you, but you insisted upon testing our limits.”
The Togruta smirked, using the force to call his lightsaber back to his hand. Arco clipped it to his belt and nodded—still panting. “Indeed. Boy, I could eat a whole Bantha about now.” Echuu put his own lightsaber away and nodded in agreement, still short of breath himself. As if on cue, the pair plopped down to sit on the hard stone floor, both at the point of exhaustion. Echuu could feel his muscles starting to cramp up, not having exerted himself quite that physically in some time. Teaching the students the basics of combat was one thing, but furthering one’s training was another entirely. Only the likes of another Master could match his tempo and ability. Even then, there were few known in the entire Galaxy with his understanding and practice of Soresu. It worked far more frequently than it didn’t, tiring one’s opponent out and waiting for them to make the fatal mistake. But it required perfection of ability and incredible patience.
He could still feel the onlookers’ presence in the observation deck above them, but Echuu no longer cared. Rather, he hoped they took something of a lesson out of it. Many other of the Masters and Knights preferred to spar with training droids, but they had always seemed somewhat predictable to him; nothing compared to a truly sentient opponent.