Just some conjecture on an aspect of pre-Clone Wars Jedi training. (I haven't yet read any novels set pre-CW, so if this conflicts with anything, let me know.)
"Slice of Life"
"Are you ready, Karihm?" James asked me for the hundredth time. We stood outside the door to my Master's chambers, but I didn't have the nerve to go in just yet. I held my newly-completed lightsaber in my hand, charged and supposedly ready for its first activation, as did James. We'd been working on them together for over a month straight, completely consumed in the ritual; now was the time to present them to our Master for final inspection.
I hesitated. "It's not me that has to be ready, it's this." I hefted the innocuous - looking cylander; a lot of time, effort, and Force had gone into it, and the time had come to make the final test. "Do you think he'd be allowed to look at yours too?" I asked him. "After all, he's not really your Master."
James sighed. "I know, but he is my Master for now. I think he'll see reason and advance us together." He looked hopeful, and I know I did too. I was dead ready to start some real sparring, and James and I were well matched for practice: same height and build, and close to the same age. Skill was another matter, but sharing a Master temporarily had taught us – and especially me – to learn from each other. I'm not a man to pass up a learning opportunity, let me tell you Neither is James, and that alone made him easy to learn with.
Thoughts of the next level of Jedi learning steeled my will, and I knocked on the door, hard. We were quickly allowed in. "So, my padawans," Master greeted us warmly, "you have completed this important step." He stood and gave an acknowledging bow. We returned it, deeper. My Master, Coburn Ihnis, was older than most who desire to train young Jedi, and it showed in his slightly outdated sense of decorum. His hair had been gray for as long as I could remember, and he always seemed a little slow of body.
Definitely not slow of mind, though.
"We have finished them, Master Ihnis," I stated formally. "They should be ready."
He gave me a look that spoke volumes, but he said nothing. He merely sat on a nearby chair and waved an arm as if to say, "proceed." I nodded, and James moved to stand just behind me.
"All right," I said, smiling weakly, "the moment of truth." I took a deep, calming breath and let it out slowly. My trembling thumb inched toward the button.
"Hey, it'll be fine," James whispered to me. "We tested every component a hundred times!" I nudged my fellow padawan, aware that my Master was watching intently, an amused eyebrow cocked. I took one last look at James, then closed my eyes and switched the lightsaber on for the first time.
I was mentally ready for it to actually work, but emotionally, the deep hum caught me by surprise. I opened one eye, cautiously, and was greeted by an accompanying crimson light. It looked perfect. A glowing shaft of bloodred light, a little over a meter in length – almost a mehru and a half, as I would have reckoned it at home. I took a step back, fighting a grin. At least it looked right, but now I had to see how it handled. It had taken far too many sleepless nights to calculate the balance, and I hoped that those hours hadn't been wasted. After checking to see that I wasn't about to swing and hit anything important – James, for instance – I tried a few simple cross-cuts. The crackle of ions was sweet, sweet music. The characteristic hum was even deeper than I'd expected, but the deviation only made me love it the more. This wasn't some practice saber that twenty other padawans before me had used, no sir. This lightsaber was mine. I'd found the parts, labored countless hours in putting it together, and even taken the time to tool some crude decorations into the hilt. If your Master approved it, your lightsaber would become one of the few things you were allowed to own for yourself until you became a full Jedi. Important step indeed.
My swings became more intricate, and still my saber handled admirably. I imagined an opponent and tried the most elaborate parry I knew…the one that I'd only just gotten right when I started building. The slightly increased weight of the hilt ensured that my lightsaber practically moved itself. Grinning like an idiot, I switched it off mid-slice. Catching Master's eye, I raised an eyebrow of my own in a wordless question. To my relief, he nodded slowly.
"It appears to be a fine weapon," he confirmed. "A little less than traditional, perhaps, but certainly more than suitable for a talented student."
His admission made me smirk. "Thank you. And I am traditional when and where it counts the most, Master," I reminded him. "I have never considered the color of one's lightsaber blade to count much in the grand scheme of things."
James chuckled, and Master nodded again. "True, true. It is always good to remember your priorities, child."
Priorities. I groaned inwardly at what that word had made me think of, but made no sign of it on the outside. Master glanced at me, but asked me nothing. He held his gaze on me a moment longer, then turned to James. "Would you like to try yours now, or would you like to wait for your master to return?"
James sighed. "It will be at least another week before he returns, sir. And while a Jedi does learn patience, he also learns to take his opportunities when they present themselves. If you approve my blade, then Karihm and I will both be ready to begin practicing together." He bowed his head a little and gave Master a slightly suggestive look. I sincerely hoped he wasn't consciously trying to Influence a Jedi Master.
"But," my Master countered almost lazily, "should it not be your own Master who advances you?" He was testing James, no doubt. I cast a quick glance sideways at my fellow padawan, hoping that the month we'd known each other was enough to allow me to read his expressions. I got the feeling that James was quite aware of what he was doing.
He appeared to mull the question over. "Perhaps you could just…temporarily approve it. As my Acting Master?" That was a perfectly legitimate point. With his own Master Koba called away on some long errand for the Council, James had been entrusted to Master Ihnis until Koba's return. James had been my equal in many things, but my better in others. I'd learned a lot from him, and he'd learned much from my Master "You did help me finish it, after all," he pleaded.
My Master smiled. "And what is more important, young padawan: the beginning of the venture, or the end?"
A standard question, requiring a standard reply. "'The beginning colors the end, and the end colors the world,' he quoted. "They are each important in their own way. And now I seek to see the color of the end of my labors." I had to fight another smile at his inside joke. While I'd deliberately set my blade frequency in the low range to achieve the red color, James had fed the upper and lower ranges into a computer and picked a random frequency. He wouldn't know what color it would be until he actually turned it on, but I'd warned him that it would most likely end up a standard green. His reply was that he'd taken care of all the important parts of his weapon's construction personally; he at least trusted the Force with the details.
"Very well, James," my Master said as if making some great concession, "I shall approve your blade. Proceed." I sighed inwardly. James' Master had probably given mine permission to fully complete the ritual before he'd left. Masters are tricky like that.
James suddenly looked nervous, and I nudged him with my foot. "Every component," I reminded him with a whisper. He drew and held a breath, then turned on his lightsaber.
Well, it wasn't quite standard green. His random frequency had produced a rich teal, a striking contrast to my own. He looked a little surprised, but quite satisfied. As he began to move it through the turns of a practice exercise, he looked even more satisfied. He took a little longer to test his blade than I had; he'd been a little ahead of me before we'd each been required to quit training for the present and start construction. Gods or the Force only knew how each Master knew when we were ready, but I assumed that it was just one more skill required of a Master.
A sudden ripple of Foresight disturbed the Force around me, and I acted nearly instinctually. I caught James' grin as he turned and directed a cut to my shoulder. He would have checked his lightsaber if I'd missed his intent, but it wasn't necessary. Quicker than blinking, my new blade was lit and had blocked his 'attack.' We stayed in position for a moment, lightsabers arcing energy off of each other and coruscating where they met. We nodded to each other and extinguished our blades simultaneously.
I could feel my Master smiling at my back, and as we both faced him, he bowed to us. We returned it, and he nodded. "Very good, you two. An attack neither made nor met in haste, done with worthy blades. I believe that deserves tomorrow off from training."
James and I exchanged happy grins. We'd never gotten a random day off like that, but we weren't going to argue. "Thank you, Master," I said, bowing again. James and I turned and headed for the door, already planning our time off. We could take a flitter up to the Second Level dining district, maybe get some stuffed nerfburgers to celebrate…
"And where do you two think you are going?" my Master asked us before we'd gone three steps. We turned as one, and Master lifted a hand before we could say a word, a malicious grin flitting across his aged features. "I gave you tomorrow off, not today! I want to see you in sparring gear and in a training ring on schedule for once! Go!"
The midday chimes started ringing that instant, giving us each very little time to get to a ring. James and I quickly bowed again and once we were out the door, we took off running for the sparring center. All the way on the other side of the Council building. Well, there went my lunch, I thought a little bitterly. At least in my training sessions today, I'd be wielding my own saber against the practice droids. And hey, maybe I could talk James into starting a little real one-on-one.
I was starting to lose my breath, but I laughed anyway. I would get that nerfburger tomorrow, and it would taste all the better. I'd be that much closer to being a Jedi, and that thought gave me all the speed I needed.
SW belongs to George Lucas. No money made from this. Yada yada.
Note: The only references that I've read to lightsaber construction mention the use of 'focusing gems' that determine the color, but some schematics leave it out, as I have. I made an assumption that since many sabers are the same color, it must be as a result of some setting during construction, frequency of light being an obvious choice. In short: I just made it up. Not the point of the story, but I thought I'd just clear it up now.
