Star Wars: The Age of Peace

Vila, right at the start of the next day, stood at the edge of the training grounds, her boots sinking slightly into the softer, sandy soil. At the moment, she didn't wear any shoes or socks, letting the natural feeling travel up through her feet, feeling herself much more in sync with the world. Something she tried to pay more attention to… Since talking with Master Katarn, something had been nagging her mind, a certain feeling that she was still unsure of. However, the moment she decided to walk barefoot once again, just when she was still a slave, the feeling became clearer. Maybe it was simply how she felt the closest to her surroundings… because she could feel everything much more clearly.

Standing there, for now alone, she gripped the hilt of her saber tightly, the familiar and comforting feeling pressing against her palm. Suddenly, she realized she was much more attuned to the Force this way than trying to meditate in an alcove. The warmth of the hilt anchored her much better, grounding her thoughts as she collected them, focusing on the lesson Master Katarn bestowed upon her. Even if she was unsure if she truly understood it.

"My emotions…" She muttered to herself, twitching her lekku once as Iowi's face and words resurfaced in her mind.

Quickly, she replayed Master Katarn's words in her mind, the lesson in them hidden somewhere, subconsciously pressing against her stubborn instincts and flaring anger.

"Control isn't about suppressing who you are. It's about channeling your strength, not letting it control you."

She repeated out loud, but she still wasn't used to holding her emotions back—keeping them in check wasn't easy. Her passion had always been the fuel that kept her from falling into despair. It was her fire, the thing that set her apart from her Master's other broken slaves. But… that was then. If she wanted to prove herself, to show the others—and herself—that she was more than just a reckless, uncontrollable savage, she needed to learn. Even she could understand that… although she would never say it out loud. Not even to Kael.

"Hoy? Vila?" Echoed a voice, making Vila flinch, returning from her sudden meditative state.

It was Jalo, sounding ever eager, standing before her, waving his hand before her face. The faint glow of the morning sun was reflected in his large eyes, and his green skin was reflecting it into Vila's face as he stood way too close.

"Finally! I have been calling out to you for minutes! What were you doing? Some kind of battle Meditation? You looked way too serious, Vila," he sighed, spinning the hilt of his saber around his hand, using the Force to do so.

"Something like that, yes." She rolled her shoulders with a simple smile, exhaling slowly through her nose. "I guess you are here to fight me?"

"Ugh… Not really…" He flinched, stopping spinning his weapon, but he already knew it was too late to back out.

"Just a quick morning exercise." Vila grinned, and a minute later, they faced each other.

As they moved, Vila's body was faster than ever, her bare feet carrying her through the air, letting her adjust to the Force much better… making her feel much more free, even if it reminded her of the time she was a slave. Their blades clashed with a sharp crack, sending blinding sparks skittering into the air. Normally, she would have thrown herself into the fight with raw, relentless aggression, forcing Jalo onto the defensive with a flurry of strikes, just as usual. But today, she tried something different. She parried carefully, following the instincts she had picked up from the countless duels against Kael. This time, she measured her strikes and took brief pauses instead of lunging at every opening, incorporating bits and pieces from Kael's Makashi. Jalo, sensing the change since the start, frowned as he tried to hold on and adjusted his stance in a hurry.

"Okay, what's going on?" he asked, deflecting her next strike with a quick twist of his wrist, gasping for air. "This isn't you. This is even scarier!"

"Nothing." Vila clenched her jaw in answer, her muscles taut as she resisted the urge to press the attack, but she tried to keep herself back. "I'm trying something new."

"Trying not to hit me too hard?" Jalo chuckled, his tone light but his eyes sharp, knowing he was pressing her buttons for sure. "That's sweet of you, really—" 

The moment she heard him, she feinted left, catching him off guard, and smacked her elbows into his side, sending the young rodian reeling backward. He yelped sharply, stumbling back a step and rubbing the spot where the blow had left a mark on his skin under his tunic.

"Less talking, more fighting," Vila said, though her lips twitched slightly, her temper rising once again… but it seemed that it was working. If she learned to control it and release it in bursts… she could gain a surprising advantage over her opponent, who gets used to her restrained rhythm. Making them unable to react when she switches from a measured form to an explosive and more passionate one.

"Me and my mouth…" Jalo grunted, struggling to breathe properly. "A lesson for me…"

"Should we stop?" Vila asked, feeling a bit awkward now, blushing a little. She didn't want to really hurt him…

"Nah… I'm fine!" Jalo shuddered, shaking his body. "Let's go!" He nodded, retaking his dueling posture.

As the match continued, she noticed something else: she could remain in control. She was still strong, still fast—but she wasn't just reacting anymore. She was thinking ahead, watching Jalo, adapting to his movement. It felt strange, like wearing a new set of armor that didn't quite fit yet, but it was working because she could direct Jalo in the direction she felt would give her the advantage to disarm him again.

"So this is how Kael feels when we duel?" She thought to herself before remembering Master Katarn's words, *You stay in control. Not your emotions.*

Then, with a sudden smile, she finished the duel with a decisive strike, forcing Jalo's saber from his hands and letting it fly out to the left of the dueling circle. It clattered to the ground, while the young rodian just huffed, hands on his hips as he caught his breath.

"Okay, that should be… Fine! Whatever you're doing, it's working! Ugh!"

…

….

...

"Exceptional!" Was the only thing I could say, clapping happily.

I have been watching from the sidelines since their duel started. Having just finished my meditations, for real, I had returned to the training grounds, feeling more in control of my presence in the Force than I had in weeks. And I was hoping to find Vila here, knowing I have been ignoring our usual dueling routine. Seeing her fight with more restraint was a surprise, though not an unwelcome one. Now, I was also looking forward to our spar once more!

"Did I miss something?" I asked, stepping up beside Jalo and giving his saber back to him.

"Not much." Jalo rubbed his ribs, still wincing slightly. "She's become civilized."

"What?!" Vila shot him a glare, her saber deactivating with a sharp hiss. Or was it coming from her mouth? Maybe both. "I'm trying something new, that's all. I was always civilized!"

"Oh?" I grinned playfully, crossing my arms over my chest. "Well, whatever it is, you do feel calmer."

"Hmph…" Vila looked away, pretending to pout. "Don't get used to it."

Still, my gaze lingered on her for a moment. There was something different about her alright—not just in her fighting style, but in the way she carried herself. The usual tension in her shoulders was softer, and the fire in her eyes burned a little steadier. It was a small change, but one that spoke volumes and probably would be only noticed by those who knew her as well as I did.

"Are you tired?" I asked.

"Me?" She glanced back at me, her fingers already tapping on her saber's hilt. "Please!"

…

….

...

Elsewhere in the Temple, Iowi was alone, sitting in quiet contemplation. The dim light of his chamber created a fuzzy shadow across the floor, signaling the fact that the sun had risen on the outside. He had tried to meditate at night, but the unease from his last attempt hadn't faded at all. The Force, usually a steady current guiding his thoughts to the correct path, felt distant and unresponsive. It was as if the Force itself was holding its breath out on him, waiting for something he couldn't see… for a change he didn't foresee yet.

That thought disturbed him.

He needed affirmation, so he turned to his usual source: his followers, Aren Drelis and Lira Syndal. If they can reinforce him, everything should be good again.

They met in one of the study halls, a place typically reserved for quiet reading and reflection, only disturbed by the occasional shuffle of C-3PO. The shelves around them were lined with ancient holodisks and scrolls, their titles etched in Aurebesh script, something that Lira had studied the previous night. It was she who told him where to meet, and Iowi wasted no time by honestly explaining his troubles and thoughts when they met up.

"You did the right thing," Aren said with certainty, his voice low but firm, believing in Iowi. "Vila lacks control. If she can't handle her emotions, she shouldn't be wielding a saber. I have no doubts."

"Master Katarn doesn't seem to think so," Iowi countered, his fingers tracing the edge of the table, anxious.

"Maybe," Lira scoffed, leaning back in her chair. "But Master Katarn is one of those who count as unorthodox. He's not like the others. He lets things slide that shouldn't be ignored. No wonder he stepped in like that."

Iowi wanted to agree, but something held him back. The thought… He thought that he wanted that to be true because it would validate him. Yet… The Force wasn't answering him the same way this time around. Usually, their validation reassured him and reaffirmed his beliefs, bringing him peace. But this time, it felt... hollow. Forced.

Could Master Katarn be right?

He clenched his fists and quickly released them. No. He wouldn't entertain that thought. He had trained harder and longer than most Padawans. He was disciplined. The Force had guided him well until now…

Then why was the Force not showing him certainty…?

As Iowi sat in his own doubts, it was as if a shadow loomed over him. Then he realized it wasn't just his mind playing a trick on him. When he looked up, he saw Master Vaelin Caedryn, the calm, diplomatic Jedi Master, standing next to him. She rarely raised her voice but always carried an air of quiet authority wherever she went. Her robes were a deep, earthy brown, and her presence in the Force was like a steady flame—warm but unyielding.

"Iowi," Master Vaelin said smoothly, her hands clasped behind her back, "walk with me."

Iowi hesitated, looking at the others only once before he obeyed the half-request, half-order. They strolled through the Temple halls in silence for a few moments, the soft tap of their boots echoing against the stone floors and walls. The surroundings around them were lined with mosaics depicting the history of the Jedi Order, their colors muted a bit but still vibrant in the low light coming through the slits high above them.

"You're troubled," Master Vaelin said finally, her tone gentle but probing.

"I'm fine, Master," Iowi replied automatically, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"Don't lie to yourself," Vaelin gave him a knowing look, her pale eyes piercing Iowi's defenses, "The Force says otherwise."

Iowi tensed at once, his shoulders stiffening. He opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself… There was no point in lying to a Jedi Master. And not to himself…

"I've watched you train," Vaelin continued, her voice calm and measured like her steps. Every syllable was another step, giving her tone that of a meditative metronome. "You are dedicated. Disciplined. You want to be a Jedi of principle."

"I do," Iowi said, his voice firm. He did believe in his ideals.

"Then tell me," Vaelin said, stopping to look at him. Her voice was more impactful with the sudden pause and became more weighted with the absence of the rhythm of her steps. Why are you so troubled by your own actions?"

"…" He flinched, suddenly thinking about the young twi'lek. "She's reckless," Iowi said quickly, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "She lets her emotions rule her. That's dangerous."

"And yet," Vaelin said, her gaze unchanging, "she is learning. Master Katarn believes she can grow. You do not. Is the same true about the boy and of your thoughts?"

"He is…" But he stopped. He couldn't help but swallow, his throat tight all of a sudden. "I… I've seen this before. I know where it leads. We all should know by just looking at our past."

"Or," Vaelin countered, her tone softening, "you're afraid of being wrong."

Iowi flinched; his breath caught in his lungs, tightening his chest. The words struck a chord deep within him, resonating in a way he couldn't ignore… Through the Force.

"…" Master Vaelin studied him for a moment before nodding. "Think on this, Iowi. The Jedi Code teaches control, yes. But if you cannot question yourself, are you truly in control?"

With that, she patted his shoulder and left him standing alone, uncertainty clawing at his mind more than ever before…