Despite being on the first level of the Citadel, the massive courtyard remains hidden behind towering walls of stone and sediment. An elongated central patch of neatly trimmed grass stretches out for almost fifty-meters while maintaining a twenty-meter width. At the center of the grass is a large, ovular fountain in the shape of the Arcona emblem, with water running from the tips of each pointed edge. Vegetation grows along some of the walls, and an archaic clock-face is carved into the face of one of the entryways. A small group of rotating sharpshooters are scattered across the walls as the courtyard is supposed to serve as a safe place for Arconans to enjoy some quiet time, or to meet with visitors. It has served as the venue for multiple honor-duels over time, and there is a significant crater off to the side of the grass left behind as a result of a contest between Marick Arconae and Wuntila Arconae. The duel had taken place prior to either Arconae serving as Shadow Lords and in a quieter time before all Arcona knew was warfare.

As you walk towards the back of the courtyard, closer to the base of the cliff that the Citadel is constructed upon, a tall tree shoots up from the stone, its shade guarding an entrance into the Citadel proper.

Rod looked around the deserted Citadel Courtyard. He recognized the large crater to his left, his master had told him when he got his initial tour that the Shadow Lord had made that crater many moons ago in a duel with his predecessor.

Speaking of his master, Rod wondered where the Templar was. He had told him to report to the courtyard at 0600 dressed for combat with his lightsaber. It was a brisk morning, and it was now 0615, the Protector was cold and tired of waiting.

As if on que, his master strolled into the courtyard lethargically. He had clearly not been awake for long, his eyes were barely open.

“Why did I make this so damn early?” The Templar asked his young apprentice.

“I don’t know master, why did you make this so frakking early?” The Protector replied, with a tinge of annoyance in his voice. The ex-commando was used to early mornings, but he surely didn’t enjoy them.

“Right then,” The Templar continued, choosing to ignore his apprentice’s attitude, “are you ready to begin?”

The equite smirked at the look of confusion that came across Rod’s face.

“Begin what?” The Protector asked, clearly not understanding what his master had in store for him.

“Oh well I don’t know, two people, awake bright and early, lightsabers on our hips, could it be some kind of combat training perhaps?” Turel asked, fairly condescendingly.

“Shouldn’t I be the one training you in combat?” The Protector shot back, he didn’t like being talked down to, and he knew he had seen just as much combat as his master.

Turel stopped himself from really cutting into his young apprentice, he liked that he had the confidence to go shot for shot at least.

“You might know more about war than me kid, but when it comes to lightsaber combat, there’s a lot I can teach you, and a lot you need to learn.”

“I guess we’ll just have to see about that then,” The Journeyman smirked as he unclipped his saber from his belt and ignited the blood red blade, “I’m ready when you are master.”

Turel ignited his own azure blade with a cocksure grin, “You’ve been an exceptional student at the Shadow Academy, show me what you’ve learned. Strike at me as if your life depended on it.” The Templar made a beckoning gesture with his left hand. “If you can land a hit on me I’ll owe you drinks for a week.”

Rod raised his saber parallel to his right shoulder in a two handed grip. “You better put back some of that Quaestor pay then because I drink top shelf, old man.” The Sith called upon the Dark Side to enhance his muscles as he sprinted toward his master with his ruby saber over his right shoulder as he ran, telegraphing a wide horizontal strike.

Turel widened his stance to stand his ground. Rod closed in to make the horizontal strike which the Templar caught mid-stroke with his own weapon, forcing a saber lock. The two sabers crackled and shot purple sparks. “Come on Rod, I know the Academy saber masters taught you better than this.” The Obelisk chuckled a bit to himself, showing no signs of exertion from the saber lock, “They do work in my department after all.”

The young Sith pushed into his teacher’s saber away from himself, breaking the lock then backed up a few steps. He resumed a textbook ready position. “I’m just getting warmed up.”

Turel twirled his weapon through a few saber orbits with a flourish “A young man like you shouldn’t need too much time to get his saber warmed up, that’s more of an old man problem.”

Without missing a beat Rod quipped, “You should go see Lady Atriyu in the medical bay, I’m sure they have pills to help with that Master.”

The Obelisk Quaestor burst into laughter, “Ok, I sort walked into that one. I knew there was something I liked about you.”

“You made it too easy Master.”

“You’re right, I have made this too easy.” Turel took off like a blaster bolt toward his student raining saber blows on him in a blur of blue light.

The young Journeyman was barely able to fend off the flurry of attacks his master unleashed on him. The Templar’s speed was inhuman. His red blade just barely made it into position to block each one, and he was stepping backwards in a full retreat. Finally, Turel finished his flurry with a strong overhead slash, which Rod caught mid-arc.

Sabers locked, the Journeyman could feel his master’s strength and knew he couldn’t hold his ground much longer. Desperately, he executed a commando roll to the left side, putting some distance between himself and the Obelisk.

“You know, for an old man, you’re pretty quick.” The young human jabbed, doing his best to buy a few seconds of rest.

“What can I say, I take my vitamins, and I drank a lot of milk as kid.” His master replied, not passing up the chance for some witty banter.

“Yes, I hear they have some very good supplements for senior citizens these days, do you drink your joint juice every morning?”

“Last time I checked, this senior citizen was putting a good beat down on you. Now as much as I enjoy trading verbal blows, are you done stalling? I do have a house to lead, let’s get back to the physical combat.” The Templar replied.

Ok then, the ex-commando thought, looks like it’s time to try and finish this.

Rod took off towards his master, his saber raised to his right shoulder. Turel smirked, he could clearly see that the same attack from his apprentice’s last assault coming.

Just as the Journeyman lifted his blade for his slash, a bright flash filled Turel’s eyes. The Equite was not too bothered however, it was a petty trick, and he knew where his apprentice’s blade was going without being able to see it.

The Templar sidestepped the Journeyman’s slash just as his vision returned, and with a swift blow drove the hilt of his saber into the back of his apprentice’s shoulder blades. The Journeyman fell face first into the grass of the courtyard, his saber disengaging on the way to the ground.

The Obelisk disengaged his saber and crossed his arms, looking down at his beaten apprentice.

“The next time you try a cheap trick like that, at least change up your strike a little bit.” He jeered. The younger human simply groaned a response from the ground as he rolled over onto his back, clearly in pain.

“Oh come on,” His master replied “I’m sure your old Army buddies have done worse to you than that.” The Templar laughed as he helped his apprentice up.

“Tell you what, I’ll buy you one of those top shelf drinks you were talking about.”

"Now let me be clear," Turel had his teacher hat back on, "That was a cheap trick, but cheap tricks can be the difference between life and death on the battlefield." Rod gave a slightly confused look. "You improvised in the face of a difficult situation, I'm proud of you." The Sith beamed.

Turel waived his saber in a slight motion to let Rod know to resume his own ready stance. "Have you given much thought to which lightsaber form you wish to specialize in once you reach Knight?"

The ex-commando paused for a moment, deep in thought, "Not sure yet master, I've been looking into Ataru."

The Templar nodded with understanding, "I can see that, Ataru would suit your combat style well. I'm afraid I can only teach the very basics of Form IV as I'm not well versed in it."

Rod lowered his ignited saber for a moment, "Why don't you use Ataru? From what I've seen of your style, you rely on speed as well. Are all Jedi required to specialize in Form III?"

Turel laughed, "No, common misconception. The Jedi developed and taught Form IV alongside the other basic forms. Form III isn't limited to Jedi, Darth Zannah employed Soresu to great effect, slaying Jedi Masters. I chose Form III for tactical reasons."

The Sith apprentice cocked an eyebrow, "And what would those be master?"

"A skilled proponent of Soresu can hold his ground against a superior duelist of another form. Also, there is no better form for defending against blaster fire, which is quite common in the places I frequent." The ex-gangster said with a grin.

"You'll have to take me to some of those shady places you frequent."

"I found some nice establishments on Port Ol'val we can hit up when this One Sith business settles down. We might even be able to find you a nice bar wench to take home."

"While you find a nice boy my age to take home master?" The apprentice grinned.

Turel feigned offense with exaggerated gestures, "Don't flatter yourself kid, you aren't my type. I prefer company of a more, feminine persuasion."

Without missing a beat Rod retorted, "That's not what I heard, what about that young Erinos patriarch you're so fond of?"

Turel's face turned bright red, "Where did you hear that?"

"The Rollmaster."

The Templar fumed for a moment, "Remind me to remove Sight's head next time we see him."

Flush with victory and elated that he found a button to push on his master Rod continued, "Aw Master, it's nothing to be ashamed of. I hear Teroch is a fine warrior." The Sith couldn't stop himself from laughing, "At least you have good taste in men."

With his face flush with color, Turel shot his apprentice a death glare. "Keep trying my patience boy and I'll show you how un-Jedi like I can be."

Rod was smart enough not to push his luck. He savored this little victory, but knew he'd pay for it later. "Yes, master."

Before the saber lesson could resume a military aide rushed into the courtyard and up to Turel, "My Lord, we have a situation that requires your immediate attention in the command center."

"On my way." The Templar pointed his lightsaber at his apprentice. "You got me this time, but I'll get mine later." He deactivated his saber and turned to follow the aide.

"Rod 1 - Turel 1" The Sith apprentice thought to himself as his master left.