Chapter 10: Power
Luke dreamed about Yoda in such detail that he still had an image of the small Jedi Master in his head when he woke up the next morning. His dream ears wiggling in time with his dream mouth, Yoda kept looking morose while saying something, but Luke couldn't hear him no matter what he did. It was like he was on a different channel than Yoda for the duration of the night. He was left with the feeling that he was missing something simple that, despite its simplicity, was of great importance.
Frustrated anew, his ears ringing, his stomach growling, Luke thought absently about finding something for breakfast, but got distracted by his list of Yoda sayings before he even reached the door. He grabbed the palmcom where he'd recorded everything he could recall Yoda had ever said. Without meaning to, his eyes landed on one short comment the Jedi Master had made when Luke had unsuccessfully tried to raise his drowning X-wing from a Dagobah swamp, convinced he couldn't do it: 'Always with you it cannot be done.'
The comment now sounded so loud in his head, it was as if he had never left Dagobah. Luke fancied he could even smell the dank odor of the Jedi's chosen home planet as he said it, feel the humid air on his skin, sense Yoda's weight on his back as he went through the paces of yet another training exercise. He could even hear the gurgling of the swamp water as it reluctantly relinquished his X-wing. Luke now recalled the amazement he'd felt when Yoda had used the Force to effortlessly lift Luke's fighter from where it had landed in the swamp. It had been a lesson in humility, in prejudice against size, of Luke's understanding of how detrimental were the limitations he automatically set on himself. It can't be done, he always thought. It's impossible, I don't have the proper skills, the right equipment, the right mind set... the list went on and on.
But what it all boiled down to was that when it came to using the Force, Luke consistently sabotaged himself. His inner thoughts were just negative enough to insure failure before he'd begun with even the most menial of tasks.
It was no different right now. Leia had said that he was thinking about Han's rescue the wrong way, and without even meaning to, he was thinking the same way about making his own lightsaber.
Self disgust welled up in Luke, clouding out everything else in seconds. This was ridiculous. There was nothing stopping him from accomplishing either the rescue of Han or the construction of his own weapon except himself.
He didn't need some kind of special emitter in order to energize a lightsaber. He needed a power source. What kind didn't really matter.
Do, Luke reminded himself. There is no try.
Grimly determined, he headed for the door, but not to breakfast. He aimed for Alliance stores, resolved to scrounge what he needed, and if he couldn't find what he needed, to make do with what he could find.
Even Luke was surprised at how easy it was. Once he had the necessary components, he used the Force to fit it all together. Each item nestled beside its brother like it had been specifically designed for this particular purpose. The finished product didn't even need lubricant in order to work correctly. It just did.
An hour after he'd started, Luke triggered the power button, the lightsaber's green blade snapping to life almost with nothing but his thoughts. He swung the blade to the left, and it moved so fluidly, it was like it was alive. A swing to the right gave him the same sensation. Ben's lightsaber had always moved easily when he'd wanted it to, but this was different. This felt right, somehow more personal, and simultaneously, more powerful.
As Luke swung the blade left, then right again, swished it up, then back down, he was sure that he had never felt more like Anakin Skywalker's son. Even more oddly, he acknowledged that while his parental relationship wasn't exactly a happy thing, he was okay with it.