The atmosphere in the Jedi Temple was palpable with excitement and nervousness. Jedi Knights, Padawans, Younglings, Jedi Apprentices, and even some Masters were taking part in assisting the clean up and preparation for the upcoming tournament.
The white walls of Combat Chamber were meticulously cleaned. The area where the fighting would take place was scrubbed, buffered, and polished, and new white mats were symmetrically laid down until they were uniform for spectating.
The center of the chamber was where the combat would take place and was always kept bare. Polished and maintained, its shine was as great.
From the upper level control booth, the room could change to five settings. Changes in the room included fluctuating gravity, changing interior lighting, temperature manipulation, loud sounds, sounds of blasts, mist, fog, obstacles, and more variables.
The room had a safety shield that would catch any apprentice if they lost balance and fell from a dangerous height.
The shield projector was located in the floor so that it could cover the entire chamber.
Nervous Jedi apprentices in pure white or brown tunics meandered around the Temple in groups or alone, preparing for the upcoming tournament the best they could or helping with the preparations for the tournament carrying things to and fro, cleaning, and anything else that needed to be doe.
Some even flew across the fighting chamber with rags, almost flipping over because they were moving too fast while they cleaned.
Normally only thirty two apprentices entered the tournament.
An apprentice had to be at least ten years old to enter.
The majority of the competitors were eleven or twelve with some closer to sixteen since the older ones lost Masters.
The younger kids that were eight and nine weren't quite ready to encounter the older kids in full contact sparring, and the older ones who had made Padawan before the tournament were busy with their duties.
But, this year it was different.
There had been an influx, and there were thirty four apprentices that entered due to some not being accepted or their Masters being killed in battle.
There was a ten year old apprentice that entered as well, and the only ten year old apprentice in the whole tournament.
Tallisibeth Enwandung-Esterhazy who earned the nickname Scout thanks to her deduction skills and always knowing what was going to happen before it did, long before the person even thought of doing it, had spent the better half of the last two weeks grouping the competitors into four categories.
Talkers were the first, obviously.
They roamed around together, talking in hushed tones or obnoxiously loud to distract themselves from the atmosphere in the Temple and play tricks on each other, or those passing by to psyche each other out.
The second were the ones who practiced hard.
They stretched out and made themselves limber. They cracked their knuckles, necks, backs, wrists, and every other joint. They did push ups and sit ups. They did handstand push ups. They jogged, hopped, jumped, or flipped in place, and they went through their kata relentlessly to point of incessant.
They challenged everyone that they could for practice.
The third were the ones who meditate.
They isolated themselves away from everyone, allowing themselves to sink into deeper into the force, but in her opinion most of these people just kept their eyes shut and kept the expression of smugness on their features.
The only thing they were doing was just sitting there with their eyes closed.
Then there was the prowler.
She was a prowler, but just the second one in the tournament.
There was another prowler.
It was only fitting they would end up becoming friends.
Two prowlers on the hunt.
It would be wise for her to meditate more.
It would be prudent for her to just meditate at all, but she was always too restless to even give it a thought, and since her Master passed she couldn't even do it.
Her history of getting too tense and excited was her worst problem.
Overthinking and over preparing were also her weaknesses and could lead to her getting distracted.
Striding through the long hallways, she began to hasten her steps to get past groups of talkers, face flushing as they looked at her and began to laugh.
"Hey, Scout, how about you stop thinking so much-"
"Yeah, you should just let go-"
"Break a leg-"
She outright ignored them.
Whoever they were.
There was no time for talking today. Today was life or death for her. She was out of chances to screw up. This was her last chance. She was thirteen, and if nobody chose her to be their Padawan today, she would...
She didn't even want think about the Agricultural Corps.
The hard truth of the matter was that the force was weak in her. It was strong enough to make an impression on Jedi scouts when she was a toddler, but that was as far as it went.
Some days she could pull a glass off a counter with her mind and bring it to her hand. More often than not it would shoot across the counter and smash into the wall. Sometimes the glass, or surrounding glasses would explode. More than once she sent several rocketing into the ceiling to fall in showers of juice, blue milk, and glass.
Another time she sent a plate crashing hard above her head and the debris smashed right on her skull, knocking her silly, and nearly giving her a concussion.
She didn't have the hearing of a Twi'lek, but she didn't need it to hear the way Jedi Masters would huddle together and speak in too quiet tone whenever she was around. She was more than aware the other apprentices rolled their eyes, teased, mocked, laughed, and worst of all, covered up for her mistakes.
A Master told her at one point that her own family had been poor, and her parents had begged the Jedi to take her away from a life of poverty. She was always plagued with anguish that any of her family members were trapped in the slums of Vorzyd V...
She alone escaped.
She alone had been given one incredible chance to do some good in the galaxy and make a difference. To be able to go back and save them from a life of poverty. She had to succeed.
It just wasn't for herself, not anymore.
It would be unbearable to fail.
Then Master Chankar Kim took her as a Padawan. Her apprenticeship was short lived. Just eleven short months later her Master had been killed in battle. If her whole life hadn't been a struggle it would have broken her.
It was sheer willpower that kept her striving.
Master Kim had always promised to take her along on the next mission. Tallisibeth had been eager, but Kim was always quick to remind her that there was a war, and not everyone was fond of the Jedi. Master Kim always smile kindly.
"We need to refine you. Polish your skills. Polish your uncanny talents. We have to focus your uncanny ability so it is more than just anticipation, my young and eager Padawan. You have a great gift, Tallisibeth, it can be a little overwhelming. You will craft your own light-saber, and that will be your foundation. Then, we will turn your anticipation into knowing."
She slid her light-saber from her holster, and examined it in her soft grip. Just close to a year old since it was assembled. As her Master had instructed quite sternly many times-training light-sabers are not good enough, you need your own.
This is your life.
An extension of yourself.
It is your heart and soul.
She had finished crafting it alone on the ice planet of Hoth after searching for what she needed and strangely, going into a deep meditation on the world for a couple of weeks.
Kim had been kind enough to provide her light-saber to serve as a model.
She always did admire the antique craftsmanship that had went into her Master's weapon. She liked the sleek handle, gently curved, inlaid grip, meant to fit all of the fingers. The electrum always caught her eye, and she had been fascinated by it.
A weapon wielded with speed and elegance, with a loose grip, one held in the fingers and turned with the wrists.
She finally found a balance that suited her.
She fashioned a pure silver version of her Master's light-saber with a gently curved, smooth hand-grip. She utilized a high-output diatium power cell, an Ultima Pearl, a Velmorite crystal, and a Permafrost crystal in combination, giving her a thin and fine blade for graceful and fluid wielding.
She kept things simple by adding forward adjustment knobs and an activation button in the center.
Talisibeth thumbed the power switch, and her light-saber ignited. She loved its sound, the solid weight in her fingers, its heft on her wrists, and the bright, thin, luminous blade, clear as the blue skies.
It was all she had left of Master Kim.
She died on some Mid-Rim planet in the Republic war against the Confederacy, the Republic had won, liberating the system from the CIS, but...
There was no next time.
Her Master died.
Now she was an orphan.
An aging apprentice with no Master anymore.
The only way she could become a Jedi was to be made a Padawan of a Master or Knight, take on missions, and be given a chance to prove that she could make a difference in some capacity.
The only way to do that was to gain the Jedi's trust.
She pushed herself to the top of class after class, she stayed up late every night until equations blurred her vision, coordinates turned into calligraphy, and star maps danced as she fell asleep within their center.
She trained harder each day.
She did everything that she could to expand her knowledge and skills.
Astrocartography, unarmed combat, hyperdrive theory, math, science, politics, botany, biology, comm installation tech, light-saber technique, holocron construction, literature, even architecture was a focus of her's at one point.
She went through her katas until her whole body ached and she felt like her concentration was slipping. There was no other option in her mind except to push herself to the limit. To go beyond her limits, slowly, incrementally, just as Master Kim suggested.
But, it still wasn't enough...
For some reason they wouldn't acknowledge her.
"Hey, Scout. Over here!"
The bubbly voice pulled her back to reality.
Jedi Temple.
It was almost tournament day.
Tallisibeth recognized the bubbly voice in an instant.
Lena Missa, a kind and cheerful Chagrian girl.
"Hey, Lena. I've been in my head all day about stuff. I can't stop thinking about the tournament, preparing, studying, and-"
"You're wound so tight and it isn't even the day of the tournament. We have some time until it begins. You can really relax for now, Scout. You're thinking too much again. You don't even know who you are fighting yet."
"Studying always helps."
"You can relax for now, at least."
Of course Lena would say that.
Lena had lost a Master in battle as well in the last year.
But, Lena was kind, had a very quick mind, was popular with her peers, and she was deft with her application of the force.
She was a natural and very humble as well.
No doubt there would be Jedi Masters and Jedi Knights lining up to choose her to be their Padawan once the grieving period was over with.
Tallisibeth tried to smile. "I can't help it, Lena. Everyone in the Temple is excited and nervous."
Lena smiled. "You have nothing to worry about. You're a good deal more advanced than some apprentices in the tournament, and I would say you are number one when it comes to grappling skills. Your only competition is really Whie, Deo, Aola, and I. Just trust your abilities."
Talisibeth laughed a little. "Being nice to me in case you end up going against me?"
Lena grinned, winking. "I want to stay on your good side, Scout. My back still hurts from how you threw me, and my elbow is still tingling from that strike from your light-saber last week. You wouldn't hurt me really bad, right?"
"I am going to win." Talisibeth replied, and that was enough in her mind.
"Please don't hurt me, Scout! Please! I'm on your side...Until it is just you and I."
Talisibeth smirked a little. "Fine, fine. You're sneaky."
"Have to play it smart this year. There's more apprentices and Aola is entering as well!"
Lena leaned in excitedly, her fork tongue flickering, soft horns bobbing as her head moved.
"Hey, Scout...Want to hear something really exciting?!"
"I don't know. I'm already nervous and excited as it is."
Lena smiled wide.
"Most of the Masters are going to be present for the tournament. Even the heroes Anakin, Obi Wan, and Cadus will be watching us compete. Masters Shaak Ti and Aalya will also be there. Master Quinlan Vos and Master Kit Fisto. Even Master Yoda will be there! Maybe they'll give us a demonstration of their light-saber skills and force skills! Imagine how cool that would be! They're all going to be here in the Temple again!"
"That would be something to see. But, with them all being there I'm going to be even more nervous than I am right now. I'm more nervous now, what if we get into trouble...I'm always getting myself into trouble and so is Aola, what if we get scolded by Master Cadus or Master Yoda..." Talisibeth flushed a little.
"Let's go and find Aola. She entered the tournament with us and I want to see Arto again. He might have those snacks Aola has him hide in his compartments. We can go and get something sweet to eat, what do you say?"
"Like a celebration?" Talisibeth asked, blinking wide. "To commemorate our entering the tournament?"
Lena nodded, but wagged her finger.
"Not just to entering, but to all of us becoming a Padawan and doing what we can to help. We'll touch our light-sabers together and make our promise to each other!"
Talisibeth nodded fast.
"Let's do that. Let's go find Aola, I don't want her getting herself into trouble again with the older kids."
Lena laughed.
"She managed to get into our classes with the older kids because she didn't get along with peers her age and was too advanced for them. She was beating them all, so the Masters kind of had no choice. She picks up on things very fast and wants to advance as fast as possible, kind of like you."
"Yeah, we're always getting in trouble."