Star Wars: The Jedi Reborn ✓

Chapter 17 - Sparring on Zaxyn

Madine's demeanor changed to the "gruff general" he portrayed in front of his troops. The man's back straightened. His step quickened. His voice barked.

The glaring sun disappeared in the shadows of the combat arena's eaves. The general swiped a code cylinder from his left sleeve across the security panel and led Luke into the dojo. 

"Attention!" a voice from inside the arena echoed. Two dozen soldiers straightened their posture and rested their hands at their sides.

"Carry on, Sergeant."

The soldiers engaged each other again, fighting and grappling, while a large Iktotchi drill instructor barked orders. The man's long tusks wagged as he swung his head from side to side.

"Welcome to our combat arena, Master Skywalker." The strawberry-blond officer extended his arms toward a large room with thick mats on the floor, high windows, and an observation balcony that ran along the north end. His mouth broke into a proud smile as he introduced Luke to the facility.

Luke curled his nose at the stench of body odor.

"As you can see, the Pulsars are one of our best-trained units in unarmed combat. After the last few battles, I was wondering how we can train them to defeat a Sith Lord." Madine raised his blue eyes in question.

I'm going to be on the receiving end of those maneuvers. What's Madine really up to? Luke grimaced and gestured with his right hand. "I'm not sure there is, General. The Jedi and the Sith, well, they can do anything in hand-to-hand combat that a seasoned warrior can. However, the Force augments their strength, and no item is too far away to add to the battle."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean. Care to demonstrate?"

The Jedi Master rubbed the back of his neck. Guess I'm not getting out of this one. He removed his lightsaber and flexed his mechanical right hand. At least the med center was able to fix this, but the plastiskin is still crackling. Hope it doesn't rip.

When the drill instructor called the squad to attention, the troops ceased their brawling and saluted in unison.

"Troops, this is Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. He's here to demonstrate Sith techniques."

Luke coughed at Madine's description and spared a glance around the room. Sure hope Master Yoda didn't hear that one. I'm sure the Jedi Council would frown on "demonstrating Sith techniques."

A scrawny ordinance specialist with "Eth-dan" emblazoned on his tunic cocked his large head, sending his dark-brown hair into his eyes. "Aren't the Sith all destroyed?"

All right. I can take you without a problem. Maybe this won't be so bad. "As far as we know, yes. But according to historical records, the Sith aren't the only wielders of the dark side of the Force."

When Eth-dan crossed his arms in front of his chest, the man's wiry muscles flexed. Luke sighed. Then again, maybe not, and I don't like that look in your eyes.

Madine asked, "Who wants to spar?"

❶ A brute named Tor came forward. His coarse, beige hair framed his chiseled face, and his green eyes locked onto Luke like a laser sight. His muscles rippled on his towering frame and strained his physical training uniform. "I will."

The artillery specialist glared as he entered the ring, circling to maintain eye contact with his prey.

Luke almost laughed. Sorry, buddy, but you've got nothing on Vader in the intimidation department.

Tor charged Luke without warning.

The Jedi lifted his cybernetic hand and pushed him away with the Force. On the soldier's next pass, he flipped Tor over with ease, propelling him across the arena into the plascrete wall and knocking him senseless.