@didntkill
“—That was your win.”
There’s no malice or discontent in his voice; just the same inscrutable flat affect as always. He doesn’t like losing, not to anyone—but he can respect someone who has earned it, and Mara has.
They’re similar, he thinks. He’s never met someone similar before, and it’s odd, and how off balance that puts him makes her an interesting challenge.
He rolls his shoulders to try and loosen the tension adrenaline still left in them, suppressing a wince as this sends pain shooting down his arms from the numerous injuries his proper training had left him with. This is nothing like sparring with his Master—though, he thinks, that alone does not make it easier. She is not an unstoppable wall of sheer force the way his Master is, but she is fast, acrobatic, deceptively aggressive. She maneuvers like a dancer in a hologram and strikes like lightning. They’re about the same age, but she seems more experienced, more versatile. He wonders where she learned.
PROXY’s modules are almost all men, and mostly Jedi. His duties, Starkiller figures, will require him to fight adversaries who are neither. Even mysterious girls like this.
If there are other girls like this.
“I will get better, by the next time. I’ll keep training.”
