Tara awakens slowly, becoming aware of the furry creature curled up next to her in the bed that was taking advantage of her body heat. She afforded the little squall a momentary smile before she nudged her awake and helped her down off the bed.
She reached for a water bottle on her night stand and chugged half the contents before putting it back and reaching for her prosthetic arm, reattaching it. She rolled onto her back and took a deep breath as she stared back up at the ceiling.
She had taken it easy because of her injuries for long enough, and it was time to resume her morning routine. She pulled her covers off of her and cast them aside, revealing the “farm-girl” in her sleep wear. She looked down at her bare legs a moment, musing. Perhaps they were nice legs…but she would not make the mistake of showing them in front of that boy again, even if in disguise.
Her mouth twisted into a light frown as she recalled the short trip back to Viscara.
Farmgirl, indeed… she thought with a scowl.
It had been a long time since she trained with others around her age, and she had forgotten how preoccupied boys could get. It was the same with Gan also. They did not train together but had lived rather closely together for a time.
Why did they always have to make things complicated? Can we not just be friends and compatriots? This is not the time for such things…
But then, her master had advised her once that tense situations bring out such feelings of closeness, which can cloud one’s focus. And things were becoming rather tense again.
She sighed, silently forgiving him, and pushed the distractions from her mind. She took another deep breath, turning her focus to the coming routine and pulled her legs together. Straight and rigid, she brought her feet up into the air, so that her body was at a perfect 90 degree angle and held them there for a minute, then she started moving her feet in circles still suspended above her, each in turn then both at once, first in unison, then opposing circles.
Her feet stayed in the air for another minute longer and the burn in her gut and thighs and calves as she maintained this position became more and more insistent. Finally she lowered her legs and rolled off the bed, landing onto the floor in a rigid pushup position, and began.
It had been a few days since she had done her morning routine so she was keeping it light with only fifty pushups. Casey gave her a curious look and then hopped up on her back as if enjoying some carnival ride. Tara nearly broke concentration in amusement of the cute little creature but decided this was still fine and kept going.
She controlled her rhythmic breathing as she did her exercises, once done with pushups, standing up and starting a bout of jumping jacks, then lunges, deep knee-bends, and sit-ups. She finished up the private workout with some flexibility exercises, planting one foot on the wall as high as she could manage and then leaning into it while she pulled her arms in front of her, over her head, this way and that, stretching them out along with her shoulders and neck.
Pushing off the wall, she stood in the middle of her room, exhaling calmly, letting out all tension before bending over feet together, and going all the way down and hugging her legs.
Then she was up again and reached for the door, hesitating a moment, looking down at herself.
“Hrn…”
Interrupting the routine, she fished through her bag of clothes she’d packed and donned a workout outfit that afforded as much modesty as could be practical, and then she reached again for the door, opening it.
A fresh wave of cool air hit her as she opened the door. She payed no mind to anyone who might be eating or socializing in the common room and instead looked up at the top of her doorframe, finding a well enough handgrip, and reached up and then continued her workout, doing several pull-ups.
When she was finished, she began a light jog around the large facility until she found a large unused room. Setting down her pad and holocomm she’d brought with her, she bent over to stretch out her hamstrings and calves, now in a dash starting position, started off at a full sprint for barely ten meeters, then abruptly killing her momentum with a pivot-stop-crouch-push and dashed back the way she’d come.
She continues her agility dashes back and forth for a full five minutes, and then on the last one, instead of pivoting again, she shoots off like a wounded varactyl, barreling full speed again down the refuge’s hallways until she gets to the front room, splits her concentration just long enough to force-open the front door and dashes outside.
As the door shuts behind her, Tara leaps up onto one of the walls of the docks surrounding their little compound, and she runs the length of structure, then moves onto the next. Still moving in a flash, she covers the top of each berthing in turn, and as she reaches the end of the last one, leaps to the light escort resting within. She runs the length of the ship and then once at the tip of the bridge, she leaps down to the ground with a summersault, landing in a low stance and pausing for just a fraction of a second as she waves a finger at the building’s door again, opening it back up.
From her low position, she dashes off again back into the building, running at full tilt once more, avoiding any obstacles or people in the way until she is back in the rear long room where she left her things minutes before, and finally skids to a stop.
Tara takes time to catch her breath, leaning forward on her knees as she pants. This was somewhat of an improvised run, but she enjoyed the exhilaration of the raised tight-surface running.
She blew out a breath, allowing herself a smile before straightening and going back over to her personal datapad and comlink. She hooked the devices together, tying the comm’s holo-projector into her pad and then scrolled through her apps until she found her rhythmic saber training program.
This was her favorite part of her morning routine.
She started the program, set the holo-emitter down, summoned her foils to her, and then backed up and waited.
Lobby music began playing as the work-out program(?) started up, holographic menus appeared and Tara spoke to navigate through them.
“Solo.”
The program chimes.
“Favorites.”
Another chime.
“Feel hot nightclub.”
Chime
“Expert plus plus. Volume maximum.”
There was one last chime before…
As the music began to kick up, filling the large otherwise empty back room of the base, the holo-emitter began spawning targets that moved towards Tara in rhythm along with the music. It started slow at first, but quickly picked up speed, and Tara began striking at the targets with her foils. Before long, the room flashed red and blue as a near constrant stream of like-colored targets were decimated in her flowing arcs of Shii Cho movements.
The music blared from her datapad, not the greatest sound quality she was used to. Normally she had it hooked up to her house’s stereo and holo-system, but this was good enough until she got something better put together. And while it didn’t have the sound capability of proper speakers, the little datapad’s music could still be heard from other areas of the base.
By now, Tara had nearly lost herself in the rythm and movements of her workout. Graceful sweeps of her foils slashing images this way and that. Sweat collected on the initiate’s brow. Fluries of movement cutting through the air. Her heart raced as the pure cardio of the program demanded more and more from her, and througth it all, there was an everpresent smile of enjoyment and determination from the blonde to beat that high score.
Finally, as the song comes to an end, her score displays, which is quite a high score, but not the highest. She did good, but she could do better.
Tara smirked lightly to herself, took a deep breath and changed her stance to makashi.
“Retry level.”