It was a fine day on Ajan Kloss, just an hour after noon, the weather mildly warm with a pleasantly cool breeze. Hannibal was dressed in what had become his usual set of robes combining color and practicality, leather gloves covering his hands. The burns over his arms were healing quickly, guided by his daily healing trances, but his otherwise visible forearms were still wrapped in bandages to prevent infection. He had his lightsaber clipped to his belt on the left hand on a mag plate.
The young Knight sat on a fallen tree stump in a clearing a few minutes walk from the main temple, a cigarra burning idly between his lips. At some point after the events on Coruscant the Council had seen fit to assign students to him. Students. Two of them. Despite Hannibal's general attitude, his actions on behalf of the Jedi had apparently caught their attention. One of them was a hopeful who'd very recently come to Kloss and was still adapting to the general way of things. The other had been Nashyr's Padawan. Hannibal had gladly accepted the offer of adopting Riz'kacha in the place of his fallen friend, and the Council seemed to feel Byron might get along better with a more unorthodox example of a Jedi.
Hannibal had contacted them both to meet him where he now sat, a little meet and greet to "formally" meet the two as their teacher and begin their training. He'd also invited Nara, a young woman he'd trained during her master Oren's imprisonment. The older Jedi Master was understandably preoccupied these days and wasn't quite the upfront fighter Hannibal was anyway, so Nara was always welcome to join in on his unusual but undoubtedly effective training sessions. His regimen wasn't going to stop just because one of his good friends had died, no sir. Couldn't let that happen.
It should be a simple enough thing, seeing what they already knew and what to work on. Fundamentals were key in most things after all, and they'd be needed for the harder stuff. The students had been warned in advance that his teaching wasn't easy, as Nara could attest, but Hannibal was confident they'd catch on eventually. Probably.
The young Knight sat on a fallen tree stump in a clearing a few minutes walk from the main temple, a cigarra burning idly between his lips. At some point after the events on Coruscant the Council had seen fit to assign students to him. Students. Two of them. Despite Hannibal's general attitude, his actions on behalf of the Jedi had apparently caught their attention. One of them was a hopeful who'd very recently come to Kloss and was still adapting to the general way of things. The other had been Nashyr's Padawan. Hannibal had gladly accepted the offer of adopting Riz'kacha in the place of his fallen friend, and the Council seemed to feel Byron might get along better with a more unorthodox example of a Jedi.
Hannibal had contacted them both to meet him where he now sat, a little meet and greet to "formally" meet the two as their teacher and begin their training. He'd also invited Nara, a young woman he'd trained during her master Oren's imprisonment. The older Jedi Master was understandably preoccupied these days and wasn't quite the upfront fighter Hannibal was anyway, so Nara was always welcome to join in on his unusual but undoubtedly effective training sessions. His regimen wasn't going to stop just because one of his good friends had died, no sir. Couldn't let that happen.
It should be a simple enough thing, seeing what they already knew and what to work on. Fundamentals were key in most things after all, and they'd be needed for the harder stuff. The students had been warned in advance that his teaching wasn't easy, as Nara could attest, but Hannibal was confident they'd catch on eventually. Probably.
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