I watched with interest the scene unfolding on the holoprojector. Delon's estate turned out to be a three-story house built in a classic style, reminiscent of our, Earthly one. Except this three-story mansion was stuffed to the brim with the most modern electronics. Overall—it resembled the palace of the Monarchs from Naboo, which I saw in the first episode. The building, sort of, doesn't resemble modern style. But stuffed with the newest technologies to the max. The main entrance led us into a hall. Statues of famous members of House Leyros stood along the hall's walls. Also, a staircase leading upstairs to the second floor began right from the hall. But we stayed on the first floor. Delon led us straight through a corridor, merely nodding to a protocol droid serving as a servant.
This time, the same group of aristocrats tagged along. Overall—I was only interested in Bail Antilles in terms of acquaintance. But the situation is such that I can't get close to Antilles without getting equally close to the others. So... Delon Leyros. Heir of House Leyros, which is only slightly inferior in power and wealth to the likes of Antilles and Organa, the two recognized hegemonies of Alderaan. Next... Amella Doyn. Again—an aristocratic house where a generational change recently occurred. The heir of the deceased head of Doyn—died following his father, leaving only one son. Amella's father, the heir's brother—became regent for his nephew. Though, according to the information sent to me: the Doyn heir—Ehar, is quite the party-goer and rich kid, who doesn't care about ruling. So Amella's father, Olen, is likely to remain as head of the House for a long time. Rulana Torsat comes from the Torsat House, friendly to the Leyros. Engaged, in fact, to Delon since age four. And finally—Mia Delir. She comes from House Delir, which "bought" its aristocratic status. Roughly speaking... I thought that was impossible, but the result is before me.
"Well?" Bail asked me. "What do you say, 'Jedi specialist'?"
On the holovideo shown to me in the spacious, bright hall of the Leyros estate, intended for fencing practice—I watched as Bail Antilles, unsuccessfully, lunged at a mature-aged man. In the fight, they used training swords resembling simple clubs. In the Jedi Order, we use training-format lightsabers from the very beginning. Such sabers sting the point of impact, marking a hit on the body. Here, it's not even a lightsaber, but an ordinary stick serving as a sword. The man calmly deflected Bail's strikes, moved little, held the sword with one hand... And if he did move—the movements were smooth, elegant... More focused on defense... This is a synthesis of Makashi and Soresu. However, it has more Makashi movements, but Soresu logic. He waits for attacks, mainly defends, and does so using Makashi movements.
"Hmmm..." I scratched my chin, "if I recall my uncle's lessons—your instructor uses two styles at once."
"Two styles?" Delon asked in surprise.
"No self-respecting fencer will ever use purely one style. Fencers can weave elements of one into another, just to find their own form, fencing technique," for example—I use Ataru and Soresu. Though combining attack and defense in perfect proportion is very difficult, I learned to incorporate elements of one into the other. For example, from a Soresu stance, I can deflect a couple of strikes, then suddenly deliver several strikes in Ataru style. Or vice versa—make the opponent get used to me mainly dodging, then suddenly start parrying and counterattacking in Soresu style... In short, many options. "This man acts, in principle, soundly. He doesn't use the Force against you. And doesn't even speed up with its help. Under such conditions—you can defeat him."
"For you to train me—you first need to show what you're capable of!" Bail said arrogantly.
"Right," Delon nodded and handed me a training sword.
"Do we have to reduce everything to a fight?" Amella chimed in.
"Be quiet," I rudely interrupted her. "If they want to get it—then let them get it. But... Attack both at once, because otherwise this fight will be boring."
"Hmph," Bail snorted, twirling the sword in his hand. "Deal with me first."
Okay. Need to impress them maximally, but not overdo it. Defeating both at once is the impression, but first—need to defeat Bail. Since they don't believe me. And on the other hand—why should they believe me? Additionally, I looked at the sword; this will be an interesting test of my abilities. No Force... No precognition... And an ordinary training sword, instead of a lightsaber...
"Wait, Bail," Delon stopped him. "And you, Taivi. Don't forget to put on protection. Otherwise, you'll give each other bruises."
Protection? They have that too. Though it's clear why Bail, under all those circumstances where he got beaten by his instructor—walks without bruises. And on that holovideo, he got it pretty bad. The protection consisted of simple, leather armor covering the chest, abdomen, head, thighs, and arms. They were worn over clothes and didn't hinder movement. Of course, they can't compare with my main suit. In it, I was simply more comfortable because my suit was perfectly sized for me. Putting on the armor, we stepped into the center of the room. Bail, the sly one, deliberately took a position with his back to the starlight. The other aristocrats scattered to the sides. My opponent assumed a Makashi stance, its variant for ordinary, non-lightsaber swords, while I took the classic Soresu stance. This will be very interesting; I decided not to use the Force. Not for enhancing physical attributes, not for predicting the future, not for analyzing weak points. Purely my fencing experience, against Bail's knowledge and what that man managed to drill into him.
"Begin!" said Delon, and Bail immediately launched into an attack. With a triumphant face, he tried to strike my supposedly open torso, since in the Soresu stance, I held my sword hand above my head, just as Kenobi did. He also hoped that by attacking from the west, hiding his movements behind the starlight, he could deceive me. That's a bit unfair on his part; he initially thought I was bluffing when I spoke about my experience. So, I'm a novice, and using such a trick against a "novice"... But why am I complaining? My sword hand dropped down, interrupting Bail's attack. The strike went into the floor... He froze in surprise. Didn't expect that from me? And which of us is the novice? When your attack is interrupted, you shouldn't stand there as if you've shit yourself.
I closed the distance to him and struck his cheek with my left hand. Bail leaned slightly from the blow and didn't have time to regain his balance before receiving a jab to the chest, a moment later, and then a slashing blow to the side. I would have liked to finish the fight with a kick to the head, but I reconsidered. With a training sword, such a blow would be softer, considering that the leather protective element didn't fully cover the face, and a kick could even break his nose, along with a couple of teeth, because it would land on the exposed part of his face. So, I ended the match with a powerful, slashing blow to the protected part of his face.
"So, had enough?" I asked the heavily breathing Bail Antilles, sitting on the floor; the powerful, slashing blow, even though it hit the leather protective element, had sent him to the floor. I twirled the sword in front of me. A lightsaber is lighter, that's true, but it wasn't difficult for me to get used to the balance of this blade.
"That was... Ha..." Bail breathed heavily, "fast. How can you move like that?"
And I didn't even enhance my physical characteristics with the Force. How fast would I be in his opinion when fighting at full capacity? Would he even see anything?
"Physical development in fencing is also important," I offered him my left hand and helped him up. "Your mentor doesn't use the Force against you, but he's still faster and stronger. Not only because he's an experienced man who's clearly been through more than one fight, but also because he's developed good physical fitness. And I'm not talking about ordinary morning exercises. Even a fencer focused on speed, who seemingly shouldn't have a mountain of muscles, must still have physical development. Based on what I've seen—you've reached your limit in fencing with your current physical body. But you haven't reached the limit in developing physical characteristics," actually—Bail doesn't have a well-developed, muscular body. His body... Well, let's say it's standard. Unlike him, my body is muscular, even though physical strength isn't my main advantage. "You lack reflexes and speed. All of that is possible when you're physically developed enough."
"Yeah, I saw your strikes!" Bail hissed angrily. "But I didn't have time..."
"To react, right?" I asked him. "Exactly. You can see your opponent's attack, but seeing isn't everything. Reflexes are important, acting based on what you see. Look, a sentient, for example, might have super-reaction. Like the Gifted with their Force. They'll see everything in slow motion and so on. But what next? If they only have appropriately developed sensory perception but don't have the corresponding body—then it's all useless. Yes, they'll see all the opponent's attacks, like you saw mine," he really did see them, he's not lying. "But what's the use if your body can't keep up with the information you see? Hmm? To parry or dodge—it's not enough to see the attack. You have to be able to, have the corresponding foundation in terms of physical development, because your body's speed might not be enough. I could teach you what my uncle taught me, but first you need to develop your body accordingly, otherwise you won't learn anything."
And any Jedi knows this. The quality of enhancement by the Force directly depends on the physical development of the Gifted. The quality of a sentient's combat characteristics directly depends on their physical ones. A soldier, a warrior... It doesn't matter who you are, you must be able to endure physical overloads. Because the battlefield is a special place where everything is decided by combat characteristics. Surely, Bail's father ordered that Jedi to deliberately sabotage his ward's training, so there wouldn't even be a hint that Bail would go to that Arena. Teach him fencing so he becomes a decent fencer and can defend himself with a vibro-sword, but only after all the foolishness leaves his head. A reasonable approach from the father. But personally, I somewhat don't care about all this... I need to complete my assignment, my own. And what his father thinks, or an outcast from the Order—concerns me little.
"And what should I do, master?" Bail asked sarcastically.
"Bring your body at least to Delon's level," I nodded towards his friend. "I'm sure he'll show even better results than you. If he trained, with his current physical development, like you do, he would have been able to participate in that Tournament long ago. And you—no..."
"As if you're muscular," Bail looked at me angrily. "You probably used some trick..."
I just shrugged, unbuttoned my armor, and then unbuttoned my shirt.
"Questions?" I looked at Bail.
"Wh... What are you doing?!" asked Amella Doyn. "How... How... Get dressed back, you pervert!"
But Mia and Rulana, on the contrary, shamelessly examined the exposed part of my body.
"If you don't see something—it doesn't mean it's not there," I smirked slightly, buttoning my shirt. I deliberately wear clothes two sizes larger to hide my physical conditioning. And in physical education classes, I wear baggy clothes. Which, naturally, provokes ridicule from the notorious clique of aristocrats from the Tapani sector. But has anyone's opinion about me ever bothered me? Even in my first life, I was bullied a lot. In this world, the world of Far Far Away—I've transformed a bit, dividing sentients into two types. Whose opinion matters to me and whose I can safely ignore. There's no point in showing off and making myself the center of the universe in front of nobodies. Or those who won't affect me at all. Although it would seem the Mecetti can influence me, as can Calypso. Quite significant aristocrats. And still, I wasn't particularly worried about them possibly treating me "a bit incorrectly."
"Can I try?" Delon asked me. "I really haven't been taught fencing much, but you said I'd do better than Bail."
"Hmm?" I looked at him. "Yes, you're physically better developed. But sword fencing isn't just physical development; it's also a set style, a philosophy. What I showed against Bail is called the Jedi Soresu Style, also known as Form III, a defensive combat form. In other words, I focus more on defense and instant counterattack when I see the opponent's weakness. Thus—exactly this logic will govern my fight with this style. And you and Bail are like two sides of the same coin. One I noted has a set style," Bail attacked with strikes from Makashi, like his mentor, "but physical development for combat is weak. The second has excellent physical development, but if we're talking in the context of fencing styles—you don't master the technique. Bail doesn't have strength but knows how to apply it correctly. You—have strength but don't know how to apply it correctly. That's why I told you to attack me together. I thought you'd compensate for each other's weaknesses and learn at least something. However—during a battle, there's usually no time to learn. You either defeat the enemy or lose. Only heroes of second-rate novels from the HoloNet can learn something in seconds of combat. Usually—if the fight isn't training and you haven't learned something—then your fate is sealed," I said sadly. "Pray to all the gods and the Force to escape with your life. But in most cases, it can end with you not escaping, but being carried away. To a funeral."
"You talk as if you know something," said Mia, tossing her black hair back.
"And why shouldn't I know?" I asked her, looking at the girl. "I killed my first sentient at ten," I began telling the legend. Tyvi's parents died because of an OPG, according to the legend. And the boy Tyvi was left completely alone until his uncle-Jedi came for him. "My parents died when I was seven, that's when my uncle found me and started teaching me to defend myself, in particular teaching me Jedi styles. Even though I'm not Gifted, I can even play around with a lightsaber. And about the first sentient—I remember it like it was yesterday, he broke into my home. I slashed his stomach with a vibro-sword, spilling his guts. Blood covered a decent area of the room. His insides spilled out."
The girls covered their mouths with their hands. Truth be told—I killed a sentient much later than ten. When my mentor and I began the epic chase for the Sith artifact Arrogant and encountered sentients who considered us their mortal enemies, I understood one simple truth—in battle, there are no right or wrong views. There's only one view—either you, or you get killed. So, I killed, almost without a twinge of conscience. And I'll kill now if the situation demands it... We don't live in a fairy tale.
"You guys grew up in greenhouse conditions. Tustr is also a wonderful planet, I don't argue," there was no banditry in the palace quarter where I was born, as Light Flaingstar, not at all. The Royal Guard and the quarter's police suppressed such things with maximum cruelty. And only the most loyal and devoted, maximally correct families live there. But crime exists on Tustr. Just not on that scale. Mainly—farther from the capital and in the form of OPGs. Lone criminals on Tustr don't survive; after all, we have an incredibly stable state. But groups—have a chance of survival. "However, the farther from the capital, the less control there might be. My parents had the misfortune of crossing the wrong... sentients, for which they paid. And some of those sentients tried to get me too. And you should understand—why they still haven't killed me. So, do you still look down on me arrogantly?"
"You didn't have the happiest childhood," Amella said sadly.
"I don't need your pity, Amella," I looked into the girl's blue eyes. "Just remember that not everyone has the same conditions as you. And in the galaxy, there are billions who were in even worse conditions than I was. Isn't it your duty, as the richer and more powerful, to remember those sentients and try to change their lives for the better? And certainly not to laugh at them, much less pity them. Sentients don't need pity. Sentients need action. If you say you pity someone—you're only insulting them with your hypocrisy. Don't pity... do."
"Well then," Bail summed up. "So, what should we do?" he asked me.
"You need to start going to the gym, Bail Antilles. Improve your physical characteristics. Let's start right now: do the following complex. Twenty squats, crunches, and push-ups. Three sets of each exercise. And you, Delon—will work on your style. Honestly, I only know the basics of Jedi styles, and even those adapted for vibro-swords. Based on your physical conditioning, Shien would suit you best. The classic combat form, focused on brute force. Or don't you want to learn fencing?"
"No," Delon shook his head. "I'll learn. I want to beat you."
Ha, not in this life. I smirked...
"And what should we do?" asked red-haired Rulana.
"Want some pastries?" I asked the girls.
"Pastries?" asked Amella. "What pastries. We also want to learn fencing..."
"Why do you need it?" I interrupted Amella. "For them—it's clear. They want to get into some Tournament there. And what benefit will you gain from studying Jedi fencing? Want to be useful in battle? Learn to shoot a blaster. If you want to improve your physical fitness—maybe go to the gym with Antilles too?"
"Tyvi..." Amella hissed. "You..."
"Calm down, Amella," Mia said softly, "Tyvi apparently has such a character."
"Yeah," I said caustically, "handsome face, but a character like bantha shit."
"And who told you you have a handsome face?" Amella continued to flare up.
"Your eyes, you secretly watch me almost all the time when I'm nearby," the girl blushed. "I can feel others' gazes. After the training my uncle put me through—it's quite simple for me. So, I know you watch me. Let's return to that very question, Doyn. Which of us is the pervert?"
"Sh... Shut up," she said arrogantly.
"Or what?"
She quickly, for a pampered aristocrat, closed the distance between us and tried to slap me. I caught her hand and twisted it.
"Let go!"
"First let go... Then shut up... You're kind of strange, Doyn. Can't do anything, meddle everywhere, but have the arrogance of the Empress of the Galaxy. Learning all the paragraphs from the first letter to the last—won't give you any importance. Go and do something useful," I released the girl and demonstratively stepped away, moving closer to Antilles, who, breathing heavily, was trying to do push-ups, encouraged by Delon. And they weren't wasting time.
"Don't you think you were overly rude?" asked Delon, distracted from watching Bail.
"I am kindness and innocence itself, an angel descended from heaven," I said. "Don't believe that?" I asked Delon, hearing his skeptical chuckle. "You think I couldn't beat up Jaiko Mecetti and his cronies with maximum cruelty? I'd break all their limbs, most of their bones. But I didn't do that. And do you know why? Because I'm kind. And I'm working with you."
"A fresh tale, but hard to believe," said Leyros. "Well, it's not for me to judge. I feel you can definitely give us new experience."
"Oh yes, the main thing is that you can endure it... And rein in the girls."
"For Rulana, I can vouch, for example. We've known each other, practically since we were in diapers. But Amella and Mia—are not within my competence. However, I think Amella is reined in by you."
I understand why. She's a girl, even if she doesn't fully understand it yet, she finds me attractive. Her character is quarrelsome, hot-tempered. All girls in all universes read romance novels; it's an axiom not subject to refutation. And if she likes me, purely outwardly, then the character I'm showing isn't what she's used to seeing in "handsome princes." So, the poor thing is short-circuiting in the context of "expectation/reality." However, I could use the fact that she likes me. But I clearly understood that such relationships aren't permanent... And I feel somehow strange after Mila. As if something was torn out. I don't know if I can build anything in this regard.
Everything merged into some kind of canvas of events... One month replaced the next. I started hanging around Bail, Delon, Amella, Rulana, and Mia more and more actively. In parallel, I was preparing Bail, plus cultivating him, creating the feeling around me that we were very similar. He really loves everything described in his personal file. And knowing his preferences, befriending him was quite easy. Even if my friendship is just a mission—I didn't feel any pangs of conscience about it. Probably just understood: what's at stake. I was interested in Bail's work in his House's transport company, which I sometimes asked him about, motivating it by saying that I would also be managing my own companies in the future, or working in state service and must know how to lead. And he has experience.
The group gradually divided by interests. If before, the only stable group within our class, so to speak, was Jaiko Mecetti's clique, then after three months—Bail Antilles' clique appeared. In parallel with this—Mecetti finally backed off from me, apparently understanding that there are, like, sentients here on his level. Although periodically I caught his hateful gaze on me. And along with it, the thoughtful gaze of that girl-Linda, the Gifted one. But nothing more.
I finished the first semester with top grades, earning an increased scholarship and cramming in many subjects that are on good terms with politics. In the second semester—I repeated the feat of the first and even received offers to write scientific papers on some subjects. After thinking and deciding it wouldn't be superfluous—I agreed, for which I earned additional reputation points with the instructors. When you've been through education and have a fairly established view of your life, studying isn't a burden. Additionally, if before I studied state administration only because I understood I had to study it, now the subject really drew me in. How to properly organize document flow, build a practically rational bureaucracy and manage it? Allocate resources, finance projects, negotiate, study the basics of state jurisprudence (the latter generally lasts all three years of study). This will never be superfluous... Understanding the processes of state administration, the basics of which were instilled in us in the first year, freed me from many naive ideas about state administration. Lawmaking especially amazed me. A single comma in one sentence could fundamentally change the entire meaning of a law. Create loopholes. And absolutely any sentient could use them.
Perfect laws don't exist, that's what the old man, about eighty years old, told us. There are ones close to perfect, also called "successful." There are average ones, the practical benefit of which is slightly above zero. And there are completely unsuccessful ones, which can plant baradium charges under the very system of the state. In general—I liked studying here. I even encountered the outcast who taught Bail Jedi fencing. After five months of my training, Bail demonstrated unexpected success, and the old man tracked him, then singled me out, guessed that I was Gifted. Oderis Yoluk, Jedi Knight, "tired of the Order"—first got scared that I had come for his soul. But, after receiving assurances that I wasn't interested in him personally, but in something else, he backed off and even started training Bail more harshly. However, this only added to his enthusiasm and zeal... Which is good. Only the last weeks were tense; Jonnal seemed to remember me and started asking me about results, which weren't there yet... And I honestly didn't know; Bail controlled himself perfectly, even though I became closer with his whole group, but he always spoke cautiously about his work in his House's company. And that was alarming...