Greater Than the Sum of Their Parts: Chapter Four

Noelani is sitting on a bench at the side of the sparring area, watching her Master and Jaina Solo duel. Their blades flicker in a speedy series of attacks and parries, never staying still for more than a moment at a time. The sounds of the sabers ring in the cavernous room, the ever-changing hum occasionally followed by the crashing sound of the sabers connecting.

It is a sound that pulls at her, causes her to grin. Makes her want to get up, and take up one of the weapons herself.

Finally one of the duelers gets the better of the other, and Jaina’s voice rings out. “Point.”

Tahiri extinguishes her blade, and bows to Jaina, and then the two share a laugh over something Noelani can’t hear as they head towards her. She bounces up, a smile on her face for her Master.

Tahiri gives her head a quick shake. “Hello Noelani, how was your class today?”

“It was great, we learned about all sorts of things. But I didn’t like dissecting the amphibian. It smelled kind of funny. But there’s a starfighter piloting course starting next week that I was hoping I could attend. Do you think I’ll be able to? Please Master?”

Jaina barks a quick laugh, as she looks at Tahiri. “I think she talks more than you used to do.”

Then Jaina leans closer to Noelani. “Tell you what, if Toes here doesn’t let you do the piloting course, come see me, I’ll give you lessons.”

Tahiri smirks at Jaina, and waves her hand away. “You passed on the chance to corrupt a young apprentice, don’t be doing it to mine.”

Noelani watches the two old friends, waiting for a break in their banter to ask her question. Finally it comes.

“Toes?”

Jaina bursts out laughing. “You mean you haven’t noticed that she never wears shoes?”

Startled Noelani looks down and sees Tahiri’s bare feet, the toenails a shining, glossy pink. “Oh.”

Tahiri pushes Jaina away, and wraps her arms around Noelani. “Come on ‘Lani, we get to do something new today.”

Pulling her attention away from Tahiri’s toes, Noelani looks up at her Master with a smile. “What’s that?”

“Gaffi sticks!”

“What!”

“I’m going to teach you to fight with a Gaderfii.”

“Why not lightsabers?”

“Because if we ever visit my adopted father, you’ll need to know how to use a Gaderfii.

“Oh.”

Tahiri walks over to a weapons cabinet, and pulls out two of the long pieces of metal, and passes one to Noelani.

Noelani looks at the thing – a bar about the length of her leg, a lethal looking barbed spike on one end, the other end a bend which ended in a club head, with another barbed spike, but this one tapered to provide a small cutting edge.

She hefts the weapon, getting used to the weight and balance.

“Follow my actions.”

Noelani looks up at Tahiri, and sees her swinging the Gaderfii in a specific arch around her body, even at the slow speed which Tahiri uses, the weapon appears alive and dangerous in her Master’s hands.

Keeping her eyes on Tahiri, Noelani begins imitating the motions, swinging the staff around her body, a complicated series of jabs, arches and slashes.

Tahiri’s voice is strong and firm. “This is the training dance. It is taught to all Tuskens as the basis of fighting.”

Noelani nods her head, as she notices that Tahiri has finally started running through things she had done before. Soon Noelani begins to recognize the movements, anticipating which one Tahiri is going to do next.

She can hear pride in her Master’s voice. “Speed up.”

Noelani gives another brief nod, and begins stepping through the dance faster. She can feel the burn in her arms and shoulders from swinging the heavy weapon around her small frame.

“Faster.”

Noelani starts swinging the Gaderfii faster, keeping the staff moving in the same pattern which Tahiri showed her.

“Faster.”

Noelani grunts, the Gaderfii whirling around her body, a whistling noise accompanying it as it cuts through the air. A sheen of sweat coats her body.

“Faster.”

She has no energy to even reply to Tahiri now. She just begins going faster. A stitch crops up in her side, a pain stabbing deep through the muscles of her chest.

“Faster.”

She lets out a whimper, and starts going faster.

Then it happens.

A combination of the speed of the Gaderfii, the pain cropping up in her muscles, the sweat covering her body and her hands.

Before she can react, the Gaderfii is out of her hands. With the sound of shattering glass the Gaderfii is out the window, falling to the gardens below them.

In shock, Noelani stares at the broken window. Her eyes as wide as saucers she looks over at her Master. She finds Tahiri staring at her, the shock Nelani feels shining in Tahiri’s eyes.

Then Tahiri laughs. It is a bubbling, happy sound, one which Noelani finds infectious.

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The Festering Wound, deep space, just off the Hydian Way.

Ulya Tu sits in the command throne of her ship. Surrounding her are the lesser Yuuzhan Vong of her crew running their various stations. She watches the stars as they slowly slide past, her hand held low, absently scratching the head of a fero xyn, a large animal nearly the size of a vornskr, with short bristling fur covering its body, interrupted by the occasional underscale poking through.

The meaty sound of a fist thumping against the breastplate of vonduun crab cuirass attracts her attention, and she turns from the viewport to look at her second in command, Tyre Lah, as he stands at attention beside her.

She stares at him for a second, storm clouds gathering on her face. “What is it?”

“I want to know what we’re doing here. Why we’re just waiting. We want revenge against the Jeedai who embarrassed us – who shamed us.

Frowning, Ulya thrusts out her hand and forks of blue lightning flash into existence, striking the warrior. The blast picks him up and throws him against the wall of the vessel. Ulya gets off the throne, and stalks towards him.

“We do things when I say we do them. Not all the pieces are in place yet. I am awaiting word from my infidel slave concerning the state of the Jeedai before we go in for the slaughter.”

Ulya turns her back on the warrior, and begins towards the command chair. She can hear the shuffle of her second in command standing, the slither of his amphistaff moving down his armor.

Every sense she has tingles into ultra-awareness. She can feel the air movements on the short hairs of her arms, smell the fear wafting off a slave huddled in a corner, taste the sweet nectar of an imminent death, hear the pounding of every heart in the room, and see what Tyre plans to do.

She pulls a slug from her belt, twisting under the first slice of the amphistaff. She squeezes the slug, and a beam of burgundy light shoots out from it. She rolls forward and slams the blade through Tyre’s chest, slicing through the vonduun crab armor as if it was mere cloth.

Black blood spurts from his mouth as he coughs raggedly. “Jeedai witch.”

Ulya barks a sharp, harsh laugh. “There are no Jeedai here.”