Prequel to Promises and Deals
ACT 1: The Age of Jedi [Episode I-II]
ACT 2: The Nameless Child [Episode III-IV]
ACT 3: The Age of Rebellion [Episode V-VI]
The lineage of Alora Naftiri in a way not seen before. This is the story of her life from befor...
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"The first rule of fighting is to always protect yourself."
Alora paces in front of Luke with a baton resting over her shoulder, a matching one in her other hand. She has trained many warriors and fighters in the past, but Luke is different. He is eager, like the rest. His eyes are wide and naive, like the rest. But something in her calls out to him; she is sure he feels the same. Luke is not just any soldier—he is an untrained, uncontrollable Jedi, and it is Alora's job to keep him safe.
He stands before her with his hands clasped behind his back. She can't quite tell if he is making fun of her with his joking smile or if he is simply trying to be who he believes she expects him to be. Either way, she will knock that smirk off so fast, he'll never see it coming.
The training room is the coldest part of the whole base, which is saying a lot since Hoth is full of ice. At the bottom of the base, there is limited heating and light, but Alora often finds it makes her trainees more inclined to listen with the promise of warmth when they are finished. Though she is most definitely not a fan of the cold, it sparks a chill over her skin that keeps her alert—more alert than Luke, at the very least.
He narrows his eyes as he takes her offered baton. "For practice, to make it easier for you, I'll only use one," she explains as she rolls her wrist to swing the baton behind her. "My only goal today is for you to learn how to block."
"Come on!" Luke whines as he awkwardly holds the weapon. "How is that supposed to be useful? If I don't know how to attack, how can I win?"
Bingo.
Alora tilts her head with a grin. "Attack me."
"What?" His eyes widen.
"Go on. I'll defend and show you what to do."
He looks down at his baton hesitantly as he adjusts his grip. His hesitation only makes Alora's grin widen before he lunges forward with a battle cry. She easily slams her baton into his wrist to push his attack away while dodging to the side. Before his weapon clatters to the ground of the makeshift boxing ring, Alora already has her baton pressed to his neck. "And you're dead."
"No fair!" He exclaims, pushing away from Alora to pick up his baton.
"Yes, fair, kid. Attacking is one thing, but if you can't defend yourself, you're already dead," Alora says. "Blind attacks only open you up to strikes you can't see. If you're defending, you can sense—" She clenches her jaw. "When defending, you're more open to seeing what's coming. If you're focused on hurting the other person, how can you think about protecting yourself?"
Luke looks down and shakes his head.
In the few months they've been on Hoth, Alora has avoided this day like the plague. She has busied herself with work, travel to other planets, and reconstructing their communications equipment which was severely damaged in transport. Most of the time, if Luke approached her, she would quickly busy herself with fixing an X-Wing or modifying a transport shuttle's tracker.
