snippet from my mand'alor!Satine au, enjoy some codytine snark <3
"Put your back into it, Duchess!" the commander told her, voice sharp and ready-made to have a battalion snap to attention at the sound of it. But all it did for Satine was make her grit her teeth and hold the practice saber back in the correct posture. She knew it was right, but Commander Cody made her hold it in the overhead position for at least ten minutes—Satine timed it with the wall chronometer. By the time he let her drop the stance, Satine's arms were trembling.
"I am trying to put my back into it, Commander," she grumbled, "but the last time I held one of these was as an unruly teenager who barely paid attention. I'm not exactly well-practiced with one any more."
"That's the point of us doing all this, and you know it," he reminded her, gaze fierce as he stared her down. "You need more training than we've got the time for, though, so you'll have to deal with the crash course, Your Grace. Tug'yc! Again!"
Satine exhaled harshly in frustration and readied herself once more. "I still maintain it was harder work, being a pacifist," she said to him, keeping her head held high. At least she still had her dignity. "But it did come with fewer sore muscles."
The commander actually barked a laugh at that remark. He looked quite nice like that, Satine thought; far less harsh and severe, and more like a person who could be made to smile, if you knew the right thing to say. "I wouldn't know," he said, circling around now with his own practice saber, forcing Satine to do the same to defend against any potential strike. "I've been learning how to fire a gun since I was big enough to hold it by myself."
"It certainly shows, al'verde," she said, the mando'a slipping past her lips without thinking. Commander Cody raised his eyebrows at her. "I mean, you're very proficient at what you do."
That seemed to catch him off-guard. "I'm not sure if that's meant to be a compliment or not."
"I admire competence, regardless of what kind it may be."
