“Keep the blade steady.”

The large hands of the Mon Calamari weapon master seemed virtually massive in contrast to the youngling’s, as the venerable instructor steadied the raven-haired youth’s grip on the training shoto. From out of the corner of his eye, the young, near-human boy caught a glimpse of a Nautolan boy executing a number of Soresu orbits in perfect harmony. Distracted, Sor-Jan’s jaw dropped open slightly as the amphibian youngling neatly countered shots from the two hovering training droids that were picking away at his defense.

That was before a Mon Cal elbow poked him in the side of his head. “Focus, youngling,” the weapon master chided the boy, pushing on the child’s lower back to straighten his posture slightly. “You have opponents of your own.”

As the instructor took a step back, the young Anzati looked up at the small, spherical droid which hovered just a meter away in the air. Swallowing slightly, the youngling tried to focus his thoughts there. He could feel the Force moving between him and the droid. He could feel the other younglings in the room, the instructors moving through the students...

“It is important to know your surroundings, but not at the expense of what is in front of you,” the Mon Cal weapon master said, breaking through the youngling’s concentration. “Now show me the opening stance,” the instructor directed, crossing his arms across his chest.

Drawing in a large breath, the Anzat boy straightened his body as he brought the lightsaber upright to the center of his body, then elevated it overhead as he took a step back, holding the blade parallel to the ground as he swung his body so that it was positioned on a ninety-degree axis from the droid’s line of fire. As he planted the foot behind him and settled into the stance, the youngling slowly let out the breath that he’d been holding.

“Good,” the instructor commented, reaching into a pouch on his belt and producing a second training droid, which hovered through the air about a meter behind the first droid. “Now, [b]begin.[/b]”

Without being conscious of what his body was doing, Sor-Jan realized after the fact that he’d driven the shoto saber forward, holding the blade upright as a training bolt connected with the blade. Instinct was superseding thought, as the young Anzat found himself pulled into a moment that seemed to distort time. He brought the blade into a vertical position, deflecting a bolt from the second training droid, then upright as he stepped around and swept aside another from the first.

“Good, good. You understand the circle of protection,” the instructor intoned. As the two droids drifted apart and began to circle the youngling independent of one another, the boy brought the saber up and around in a tight orbit around his body. “Let your emotions flow like water,” the Mon Cal urged on from the sidelines.

[i]Let your emotions flow like water,[/i] the youngling echoed in his thoughts. What the nerf did that even mean? Transitioning from one orbit movement to the next, the young Anzat continued to try and maintain momentum as two more training bolts were fired. Pivoting on one foot, the Anzat neatly neutralized the one along the blade of his training shoto, before whipping the blade around to...

Sor-Jan’s stomach turned, a wave of overwhelming emotion slamming into his body as though he had just been physically punched in the gut. Stumbling over his own feet, the second training bolt caught the youngling in the leg as, all throughout the room, the younglings all cried out in terror.

[b][i]“Younglings, quiet!”[/b][/i]

With a wave of two of his four hands, the clan’s Thisspiasian master disabled all of the droids in the room, sending the spherical shooters clattering to the floor. A yellow lightsaber was glowing in one of Azul Gol’s hands, the first time that Sor-Jan recalled ever seeing the Jedi ignite his lightsaber. Behind him, the Mon Calamari weapon master ignited a blue lightsaber, while another instructor activated his lightsaber as well.

Sor-Jan’s confusion turned to panic as an explosion sent a tremor through the building. Several younglings blurted out questions as to what was happening, as the Jedi instructors again called for quiet. The building anxiety turned to dread as a sound began to echo from outside the room.

It was the sound of blaster fire. [i]For real[/i] blaster fire.

“Whatever is happening, we cannot stay here. We would be trapped,” the Thisspiasian Jedi Sentinel declared at the front of the room, as the bearded serpent slithered to the door. The smell of burning ozone whiffed into the room as the Jedi opened the door into the mezzanine. A number of blaster bolts were visible as they sailed by the open portal into the hallway outside.

“This is Coruscant,” the other weapon master stated, a hint of anger slipping into his voice. “The droid army could not invade here.”

“Stretch out with your feelings. These are not droids,” the Thisspiasian Sentinel answered flatly, before looking over the collected faces in the room. “We will make for the hangar,” the snake-like Jedi stated firmly.

“I shall bring up the rear,” the Mon Cal instructor answered immediately, pushing Sor-Jan and the Nautolan boy forward. Staring down at the group of children before him, the Mon Cal lowered his head and said, “Younglings, when we step outside, whatever happens, do not stop moving.”

Sor-Jan’s eyes grew wide as the confusion and anxiety transformed themselves into a genuine fear that was beginning to take hold, and take control. He felt a hand grab hold of his. Looking down, he saw a green-skinned hand and wrapped his fingers tightly around it as he looked up at Zak, the Nautolan boy. They were both scared...

...no, they were not [i]scared.[/i] That word paled in comparison to what they were each feeling. They were terrified. 

But they would be terrified, together. And that much helped to abate the chaos and confusion that he was feeling.

The youngling clan master’s voice spoke up again. “Ignite your lightsabers,” Azul Gol barked sternly. “We go. [b]Now.[/b]”