A note to readers, though off topic, I have recently posted the final chapter to Skyfighter: The Ones. A sequel to that story will be written ... eventually.

Chapter 5: This Weapon is My What?

"Careful … sense the remote … feel the warning … deflect the blast … I said deflect, not absorb with your body parts!" So apparently Master's got a sense of humour. Recovering from the mild sting to my thigh, I brought my blade up in an imitation of a Shii Cho ready stance and waited. The wait wasn't long, three hisses later yet another blast came my way. This time I just tried not to think, and oh joy, I deflected it!

The next part came just like on the Falcon, three blasts in rapid succession which I swiftly blocked, even the acknowledgement sounded like Ben's. "This time," instructed Master Gallia, "Use this…" and she tossed over my saberstaff. Apparently my emotional outburst wasn't as controlled as I hoped since Master Adi merrily laughed and stated, "You came here with this weapon, it stands to reason that you were meant to wield it. Oh don't worry, I turned the blade intensity down to a training level…"

Shrugging uncertainly, I clipped the hilt on my belt, waited a moment, and suddenly snatched it up, activated an end, twirled it in what I hoped was an impressive flourish and ignited the second blade. The stance I took, right hand outstretched, left foot back, body slightly turned on one side and in a half-crouch, saberstaff held loosely in my left hand, you get the picture, might have looked good with a gutter cleaner pole, or with my stunt weapon, but honestly I had no idea how it would work in a moderately real situation. Master gave a not and a twitch of her hand sent the training remote into action.

It was no big deal deflecting the first shot aimed at my head, and a flick of the wrist dispatched the one heading for my stomach, but then came four shots fired in rapid succession. Leg, shoulder, other leg, side. With an inexplicable skill I switched the grip and holding the lilt in a more traditional quarterstaff fashion, began twisting left, right, dodging this was and that, ducking… looks like my tomfoolery paid off. Or maybe not…. Chasing after the remote, as despite my display, I was miserable at blaster deflection even compared to initiates, I was forced to counter more and more shots. To clear the distance faster, and to dodge a particular volley, I tried to execute an Ataru jump. One problem: I hadn't yet learned to harness the Force in any capacity effectively, let alone fancy acrobatics. Suffice it to say that I landed awkwardly – fell – and right atop my lightsaber. Had it been full-powered, I would have been one spinal colon short. Somehow through the not insignificant pain of the burn on my back I managed to roll over and yank up my saber, deflect yet another stupid bolt, and send the blue-bladed terror, javelin style into the infernal training device.

The trip to the healers was not too long, apparently masters got tired supporting injured students all the way across the Temple, so for those not yet accustomed to lightsabers – or new weapons of any kind – they trained near to the healer's wing. All the while, a most fowl concoction of horrible words spewed from my mouth as we first got to the med-centre, and then I got a bacta patch slapped onto my back and kicked out.

I actually should have known better, for as soon as we left the more public areas of the Temple and retreated to the lake level, Master Gallia began the no-anger lecture,

"Padawan, you yourself quoted our code, but do you understand it? We advise against anger for a reason, it is—"

"Master, I wish to respectfully interrupt," I could tell she was curious, but she stopped, "I am indeed aware of the Jedi Order's belief of anger, and their general stance on emotions of any kind. I actually agree that anger is not the best emotion as it rests control from the person and guides their actions instead of common sense or the Force. I have actually experienced this first hand, however not all emotions are bad. For what are we without emotions but mindless droids obeying someone's will or our programing? No emotions are not bad, it is what we do with them, now hold on before you start chiding me for sounding like a Sith … hear me out! Emotions are not bad per say, they are just negative and positive. If we chose to let our emotions control us instead of dealing them, some bad things can happen, but we cannot reject them utterly. Nor really can we control them, we cannot control what we feel, we can control what we do about it. Releasing them to the Force, to the air, to whatever you chose, does not help, you have to acknowledge what you feel and why you feel it, you have to then do something about it, be it remove the irritant, smash a punching bag, or run ten klicks…."

It took me some serious time to realise this, but I eventually did, and it oh-so-helped me. Apparently what I said was partially getting through to my teacher, for after a moment of frowning, she turned to me and asked, "So is this why I didn't feel any darkness while you were cursing everything from Tatooine to Mygeeto? And is this how you dealt with emotions before you had the Force?"

"Yes and yes. And why start the 'if you don't shut up then your eyes with turn yellow' lecture if there was no darkness?"

"Preventative measures…" we chuckled a bit at that. After a moment, Master decided to start a Force exercise with a statement akin to "Can't do saber practice until that burn heals, so let's practice telekinesis, just don't hit yourself with anything…" As a demonstration, the Tholothian twitched a finger and lifted a handful of pebbles. She repeated the process a few more times telling me to concentrate on the patterns of the Force, sort of feel what it feels like, so I did.

My first attempt was a guided one where – I don't know how – Master Adi guided my mind through the process of focusing on the object of interest and then manipulating the Force to make the object levitate. When that was done, Master told me to try it myself, though of course she didn't say 'try'. Eye still open, concentration settled on a grey stone barely a meter from me. Concentrating as I was showed, I twitched my left pointer-finger up, and to my greatest surprise, it lifted and hovered steadily … for all of three seconds.

I really didn't understand Master's praise, but she explained that summoning objects to one's hand as I had already done, was easier, just holding them steady in mid-air was harder, much harder. She was however surprised by how quickly I managed to accomplish what I did, a feeling strengthened when after showing me a technique to hold the pebble steady, I did it for twenty seconds.

The next few hours were spent similarly, Master Adi would show me a Force trick bit by bit, I would attempt it, and I would get it right first time around. By the end of that training session, I was able to lift, move, hurl, decelerate, and even break weak telekinetic grips on objects.

It is rather strange, I thought, it took Luke weeks of time to perfect rock-lifting and he was like the second strongest Force-user in the entire history of the Jedi. Woops, Master just caught that thought, now she wants to know who Luke is. Apparently there is a drawback to my fast-paced learning ability, that being the extensive telepathic connection, commonly known as a 'Master-Padawan Training Bond', 'MPTB', 'training bond', 'Force Bond', or just plain 'bond'.

And then it hit me, an ability I myself described in a moment of inspiration, 'Force Syphon' an ability to absorb knowledge and even memories and sensations from another mind. One major drawback required the target to be Force-Sensitive (So no using it on the Vong or most civilians) and a telepathic link. Another drawback was the killer headache that came from extensive use of this skill, I just groaned as the migraine began to set in.

I've had some serious headaches in my day, but this one really took the cake. I wonder, if I didn't include the thing about the headache in that retched fan fic, would I still be having one? Probably, coz this world is not influenced by my writing, for if it was, Palpatine would have been dealing cards on Nar Shaddaa and not messing up with the Republic. Anyway, the walk to our quarters was a blur, Master supporting me all the way for the second time that day, though it was rather evident that my headache was affecting her through that training link. And so came my first lesson in pain control. Handy thing that, works better than conventional pills from back home, but takes concentration, which is hard to muster while your head is throbbing like there's a black hole inside your skull while another is on the outside and they alternate between one-another some ninety times a minute.

Either I learn how to deal with the pain myself, or I am not using this technique, even though I awoke the next day feeling refreshed and well, and my head miraculously intact, I can remember that Master had to effectively knock me unconscious with the Force to do anything for herself and then me, which would be so inconvenient on so many occasions that I can envision.

After an early breakfast we decided to start with meditation and then a quick lesson in shielding followed by a conscious effort at learning pain control. When that was out of the way, it was noon and Master Adi sent me off to "…Have a break and see if you can meet Anakin…" so I did.

Alright, now I'm certain that there is such a thing as 'the will of the Force' for as I exited the turbolift on Knight Level 4 and turned the corner, I ran into Anakin. Or should I say, he ran into me. "You're lucky I wasn't Buster Windu, or you would be getting one shining-bald talking-to…"

Anakin laughed as he picked himself up, "Buster Windu? Nice one, join the hate club!"

"A Jedi feels not hate," I whispered conspiratorially, "Unless it pertains to the gimer stick or lectures…" It was my intention to get into Anakin's trust circle as soon as I realised that I had no way of getting home by myself, however I was surprised that it seemed so easy to do so. It felt natural, same adventurous spirit, same "you annoy me so I wanna punch you in the face" attitude, we would get along fine in the years to come. "So Walker, what have you been doing, walking?"

"Just finished some training with Master Obi-Wan, he let me have a break for now so I thought I'd see how you and Aeren were doing?"

"Haven't seen Aeren since the Council meeting, so I have no idea about him, but I've been practicing Shii Cho blaster deflection and a start with telekinesis…"

"You serious?" Master Obi-Wan didn't let me use a training lightsaber until I was ten and a few months past that!" as our conversation progressed, we moved off toward the refectory for the mid-day meal.

Eventually the situation arose where I could broach the topic which was nagging at me for some time, "Hey Anakin," my reply was an affirming grunt, "You're a good slicer, right?" this time the grunt was less certain, "Can you get me the layout of the Temple for my datapad? You see, the Whills apparently didn't see it necessary to include floor plans…"

"Not such a good slicer, I'm better at mechanics, but I got the plans back from the first time I came here, can you come over after evening meal to our apartment?"

"Sure why not, ah … but I don't know where it is…" Anakin's answer was forestalled as we turned a corner and approached the dining hall doors. The room's design was rather interesting, tall – two storeys at least – with two rows of long tables running along each side of the main walkway. Beyond those were smaller, four and six-seater ones scattered haphazardly following no particular pattern but leaving room for clear pathways from the secondary entrances. On the far wall was a standard series of serving counters, arranged by edibility, with queues separated by plasteel dividers.

After getting who-knows-what, Anakin and I retreated to one of the outlying tables to continue our discussion, "You see Anakin, Master did give me a map, but it was a Padawan clearance only one, not what I need…"

"Yeah, I see what you mean, lucky I managed to trick my Master into giving me a high-level map, with all the vent systems, security holocams…" he trailed of for no apparent reason, or at least so I thought until I remembered that Jedi rarely do things without reason, so using on old trick to see what was behind me I lifted a tall glass of some pale yellow liquid (ten years later I would find out that it was meant to be a synthesised juice from Alsakan) taking care to leave enough room for a reflection. Sure enough someone was coming up behind me.

"What was that about security holocams?" Aeren announced himself cheerfully, "you aren't planning on robbing Master Tiin's apartments are you?" with a friendly wave from Anakin and a casual hello from me, Halcyon plopped his tray down on the table and joined in on the discussion,

"Maybe learning under Master Yaddle, a good idea is not, because what am I going to do if my grammar conforms to her style?"

"Well," Anakin chewed on his fork, "you will have to stay with Master Nu than, she'll straighten out all your language difficulties…" his reply was a head-desk from Aeren. Who can blame the poor kid, Mace Windu may be the worst-tempered (grumpiest) Jedi, Master Yoda may wack your shins until they break with his gimer stick, Obi-Wan might be able to negotiate (lecture) you to death, but Head Archivist Jocusta Nu is as dry as old parchment and more perfectionist than even me on a bad day.

The conversation went to many things, Anakin's recent trip to Ilum, some Yoda-jokes, my training – oh Aeren got worked up over the fact that I got to swing a deadly blue glowrod on my second day being a Jedi, apparently Master Yaddle only jabbered about control, patience, and the dangers of the dark side.

"Sometimes I wonder," Halcyon actually said once, "If the whole purpose is to turn us to the Dark Side with all the lectures and warnings…" of course that wasn't true, we knew that, and so did an unnamed Jedi Master that overheard that remark.

When lunch was over, our merry little group parted ways, with Halcyon going back for more lectures from Yaddle, Anakin off to the hangar, and I on my way to the training rooms. Wonderful thing, bacta, healed up a lightsaber burn in less than twenty-four hours.

The training started easier, we decided to skip blaster deflection for now, and begin with the standard Shii Cho drills. Being the simplest of the seven forms of lightsaber combat, I did not find it too hard, seeing as how it was based off traditional fencing, and the fact that I used a one-sided saber to start off, helped immensely.

I did find it peculiar – or maybe not so, on second thought – that many of the motions, were similar to what I devised for myself back home. The only changes were in the way I held the hilt; whereas a mobility cane has a diameter of 1.2cm, the saber I was using was a good 3.7 to maybe even 4.2.

By evening, and with the aid of the training bond, I had gotten down the first Shii Cho sequence, however it still came with a whopping headache. It wasn't as bad as the day before, courtesy of that pain relief exercise, but it still hurt.

Dinner, or what they call here evening meal, was an attempt Master did to cook something from her home world, she's Corellian by birth, well … let's say, it was hotter than that omelette I foolishly ordered aboard a plane, and let me tell you, that was hot. I probably drank out their entire supply of water that flight.

I'm really not sure whether that was supposed to be a training exercise of some kind, but I didn't mention it, let Master think what she will of the expression on my face. I really hope I'm not going to regret my stoic acceptance the next day.

After delegating the task of washing the dishes to me, Master Gallia said that I could do whatever I wanted, as long as I was back by twenty-one hundred hours for a Jedi related discussion, and left the apartment in a swirl of brown cloak.

The washing up wasn't difficult, as I had done some back on Earth, and had experience, unlike so many of my former classmates. I was not surprised to find that it only took me fifteen or so minutes, considering the really greasy cooking gear and the unusual sink setup. Pulling my brand-new hush-niner-eight off my belt, I dialled Anakin's frequency and told him to meet me at the turbolift.

I like these turbolifts, whereas back home I had to feel over the entire panel to get the right floor button, here I could just say, "Knight Level Four" and be on my way. Skywalker was there when I arrived, rocking back and forth on his heels. With an exchange of usual pleasantries, we headed of down the maze of corridors, with me paying a lot of attention to minute details.

Anakin stopped in front of an innocuous door, conspiratorially whispering the twelve digit code to me. Again my obsession with random things like remembering multi-dozen-digit long alphanumerical sequences seemed to have payed off. Inside we found the quarters empty, empty of living beings that is, it would be impossible to call them empty in any other regard.

When I thought back to my history, I remembered that these quarters where once Qui-Gon's, upon being granted the rank of Master, he refused to be reassigned, and kept them all through the years, to be inherited by Obi-Wan, and then, Anakin and his Padawan. The evidence of times gone by was left standing, potted plants so often favoured by the Living Force enthusiast were scattered all over the floor. The greenery was supplemented by various mechanical parts dotting every conceivable surface, and amidst all that, were datapads, sheets of flimsi, and even books. It looked homely somehow, the grease and grime stains on the walls and floor, datacards lying in piles instead of orderly stacks, cloaks strewn over furniture, it was unique.

"Master's got an invitation to spar with Master Drallig, so I got nothing to do, say, ya think you can help me with a droid?" I nodded in agreement and we set off to a somewhat organised pile of droid bits and pieces.

I left the Kenobi and Skywalker quarters barely in time to make it to my own. We, Anakin and I, had to abandon his latest project half way through as the MSE-4 had a seriously burned out processor core, so instead he chose to show me a few basic tricks in slicing doors and securing communication channels.

When I arrived, Master Gallia was already back. Strange, how in just a day I began thinking of her as my teacher with more respect than all my previous ones combined. I would have expected to be more displeased with the Jedi as a whole, and show it, or at least feel it. But no… my words in the Council that other day were honest, I did not really want to alienate the Jedi, I just wanted to improve my living conditions so to speak. And as for Adi Gallia, well, she never acted snobbishly, or self-centred, like teachers from back home. Perhaps what I respected the most about her, was that she chose to understand my vision condition, unlike the chakaars back on Earth. During lightsaber drills, she did not wave her flashy sword and expect me to repeat it, she showed me what to do.

"Something on your mind, Padawan? The Force is disturbed around you…" Trust a Jedi Master to pick up on that…

"Memories of home… bad ones. No my home was great, but the places where I learned were … let's just say, I prefer Jedi teaching practices to theirs…"

In reply I received a chuckle, "Prey tell…"

I lay in bed, I should really change my vocabulary to the local one, I lay on a sleep couch, contemplating my latest discussion with my Master. First off, it should be noted that never in a million years would I have expected a High Council Master to get angry enough to shatter glass with the Force. It should further be noted, that never in a billion years would I have expected said Master to react in said manner toward something I said. No, I thought that I might rile someone on that Council up badly enough to make them go read, but not through a Force-fit, and certainly not over a simple recounting of my past.

I still have no idea how Master Gallia managed to get me to narrate my entire school life, with all troubles included, I suspect a mind trick, but she did. Over the course of the tale, she started getting progressively angrier. By my recitation of year seven, she was gripping the armrest with white knuckles, and by the end, she through that fit. Now we will have to explain to the Council why the window needs to be replaced.

I sort of put it all behind me, as soon as a crisis would pop up, I would get angry, when it died down, I would completely forget about it. It was safer that way, for my sanity, and the livelihood of all the people involved. It was painful to recall all that I've been through, harassment by teachers, assaults by students, but it did not affect me as much as it did my Master.

Suffice it to say, my respect for her has just risen through the roof, and I think that she actually understands my temper troubles better. It did make me feel almost delighted, well that isn't the proper word, for this is a grim situation, but still, it felt better that a Master, get it, Master, reacted to my troubles so, maybe my stay here would turn out better than I anticipated.

Still, I was left with many questions as I began dosing off to sleep, like why me? Why did I come here? Why me of all people, and why here of all places? Why not some SW-3 class geek with even more knowledge and something fancier in mind? Why the Jedi against the Sith, why not the war of the Ring, or the debacle in Narnia, or a visit to the Rangers of Araluen? And how of all possible Padawans did Master choose me? How did it happen so easily, after just half an hour's worth of talk? How would I survive this perilous realm? What should I do, should I interfere, or sit put?

Sleep claimed me before I could clutter my already messy mind with even more questions, answers to which I probably would not find myself, or any time soon for that matter. My face in a pillow, I remembered whispering "Qui-Gon…" before the oblivion of sleep took over completely.

Okay, I hope the chapter title fit the topic, I sometimes go through several drafts to get it reasonably right, if you watch the Clone Wars, you know what I mean.

Also, I am concerned over pacing and especially the end here, for I had to fit a lot into this chapter, and somehow make it work. Well, I'm an amateur, what do you expect?

Keep on reading, and May the Fiction Be With You!

Clean Word Count: 4,004