The birth of a lightsaber

To enter a trance a Jedi needed to focus. But next to Lyander sat Initiate Ferik, a human boy that constantly shifted during his meditation. The sound of Ferik's robes constantly dragging against the metal floor made Lyander bite his cheek in annoyance and he swore he felt a vein on his forehead throb from ire. And the sounds just never stopped. Senior Padawan Hamsell constantly paced back and forth while worriedly mumbling under her breath. Master Vilkas had fallen asleep at some point and snored lightly. The esteemed old master had propped himself up against a box in one of the corners of the cargo-hold-turned-meditation-chamber. And to add to it all, Asor Cosh, a fellow initiate, and a green Twi-lek girl, coughed now and again only to loudly sniffle. The coughing made Lyander's skin crawl and ground his teeth together in ever-growing rage.

And his focus and mood were not helped by taking breaks from the futile meditation. Because not far away from him sat Jaka who examined a completed lightsaber.

To his friend's credit Jaka did look sheepish every time Lyander stared blankly at the lightsaber. But Jaka's pity did not help Lyander's already bruised ego. He simply could not enter a trance as easily as Jaka. It did not matter how much he trained to empty his mind and let go of his feelings, he simply could not find peace. Jaka on the other hand seemed to take a single breath and was then spellbound and unmoving for hours. Lyander could take a thousand breaths and still be aware of garbles from the comms unit that was on the other side of the damn ship!

Lyander released a breath and closed his eyes once more. He felt his connection to the Force, the weak stands that reached out to the core of his beings, and he tried to let them flow through him.

The strands simply remained. There but unmoving. Like a mountain that no amount of artillery could flatten. And by every divine of the Force and above did Lyander wish he could flatten it.

Annoyed, and now biting the inside of his cheek even harder, Lyander tugged on the strands. This time they moved, but such a cold fell over him that he let go with a shudder. He could not force a trance, as he had been told so many times, but no matter what Lyander did to calm his mind he could not enter a trance. No vision like the one on Illum filled his mind and bending the Force to his will made him feel like he'd swallowed ice cubes.

Lyander was fairly certain it was not the dark side he touched when tugging on the 'strings', seeing as he knew what the darkness felt like, but it was close enough to scare him away.

So he just sat there in the cargo hold, annoyed and unmoving, while hyperspace passed them by in the small windows. Perhaps if he could get a moment of silence he would be able to focus. So he did his best to let everything go to the Force, to enter the state of balance and peace that a trance provided, and… Asor sneezed. Lyander slowly turned his head towards the girl with a deadly glare, but Asor was deep in trance, and as such did not respond to his unspoken threats. He felt some pity for the girl, seeing as their ship was not exactly equipped with a med-hall, just a rudimentary medical droid, but he couldn't take it anymore.

Lyander stood up with a huff and left the room. Jaka threw him a curious glance and stood up to follow, but Lyander held out a hand and shook his head. Jaka sighed and gave him a nod before he walked back to his spot.

"Where are you going, initiate?" Hamsell asked, the woman finally standing still.

"If I am to meditate I need someplace with less… people," Lyander mumbled.

Hamsell eyed him for a second, the blue Twi-lek judging his intentions for a moment before nodding. "Very well, but I will check up on you to assess your progress."

"As you wish, Padawan Hamsell," Lyander said with a complacent wave and left the room.

Jaka always told Lyander that he needed to learn how to meditate among people, and Lyander always countered with the fact that people were always there. There could be a wall or a building between him and other people, but Lyander always knew they were there. Jaka had told him multiple times that it was normal to be distracted by the presence of others, but Lyander knew it was more than just small distractions. It was more like lanterns shoved into his face. One or two people could be ignored, but dozens of 'lanterns'? He might as well stare into a sun if he wished to blind himself. And even if he could ignore their presence he certainly couldn't ignore their noise.

So Lyander needed the next best thing: a place without the sound of people as he couldn't get away from the feeling of people. Preferably a place where Jaka wouldn't want to follow him. Lyander could not afford any distractions, even friendly ones.

He wandered the ship for a while until he heard the engine's hum. It drowned out all other noises and even his unruly thoughts. If any room on the ship would provide him with the opportunity to focus on the moment and his connection to the force it was the engine room. It was simply a safe haven for someone like himself.

Lyander entered through the metal archway and welcomed the soothing hum of the engine with a smile. The room was not large, only equipped with sensors and data screens that beeped now and again as they rattled off the engine's status, radiation levels, and fuel. The engine itself, a large round generator trapped behind layers of shielding, was built partially into the floor, taking up most of the space in the engine room.

Lyander sat down on the metal sheets that made up the floor and crossed his legs, gingerly placing the parts of his lightsaber in front of him. He stared intently at them and rubbed his thumb over the slick metal surface of the steel crossguard.

He had chosen the crossguard for aesthetic reasons, mainly to display the order's symbol. But it had taken on its own value as time went on. His designs had slowly formed around the crossguard rather than having it as a haphazard last addition. If he had the resources he would have acquired one made out of a material that could survive a lightsaber strike, like beskar. But such materials were expensive and were far more fitting for sensitive ship components than an initiate's first lightsaber.

Lyander shook his head and focused on the Kyber crystal in the middle of his ensemble of parts. He had to complete the lightsaber or he could never count himself as a Jedi. So with a deep breath, he closed his eyes, crossed his legs, and imagined the wave from the crystal caves. Before he had followed it and allowed it to guide his path. Now he was one with it, ebbing and flowing in a soothing pattern. Back and forth. Reality and Trance. The hum of the engine, the serenity of the Light.

Slowly, without Lyander even noticing, he picked up all parts of the lightsaber with the Force. The wires and casing, the power cell and crystal mount, the field energizer, and of course the crossguard. All of them spun around in the air around the Kyber crystal, like planets orbiting a star.

The construction began slowly. He started with the centre, attaching the crystal to the mount, placing the circuitry where it was needed, and fusing the power cell to the mount. Then he focused on the handle. An internal power breaker would ensure only he or another force sensitive could activate the blade. A curved grip would allow him to both swift thrusts and slices, so Lyander forced the metal to bend and accommodate his wishes. Finally, the crossguard was added along with the magnetic stabilising ring.

The rest of the process was fine-tuning the lightsaber. If the grip felt wrong the Force knew before Lyander, and so he changed it. If the adjusters were wrongfully calibrated he removed them and fixed the issue. And if the balance was off he gently separated all parts to rebuild it all again.

By the time the process was done, Lyander was panting. His grip on the lightsaber weakened, the wave seemed to drift further and further away from him, and the hum of the engine became far more potent. With a gasp he let go of the Force and held out his hand, barely managing to catch the previously floating lightsaber. He finally had his weapon.

And what a beautiful weapon it was.

The slick sheen to the crossguard made his eyes widen. The curve and the thin radius of the handle, despite the multitude of wires and components, were extraordinary. Lyander smiled in awe though he slumped forward with a tired groan. His eyes darted about the room, trying to see any indication of how much time had passed. Exhaustion poured off him as he felt how all his fellow initiates were fast asleep.

How long had he been at it? An hour? Several hours? It was hard to tell.

Lyander straightened out his back and stood up with a tired sigh. He took a step forward and stumbled a bit, steadying himself against one of the walls. The boy ran a finger over his lightsaber and held it up in front of his face. He had to make sure it was functional. So Lyander reached out with the Force and pushed the internal breaker. The sound of the blade's birth sounded throughout the room and the smell of fire made his nostrils flare, but Lyander stared down at his crimson blade with an astonished laugh.

It was all red, and he had never felt closer to the Light.

"Initiate, are you done with your lightsaber?"

Lyander looked up at the doorway and saw the scrutinising gaze of Hamsell. The Twi-lek's eyes were focused on the crimson blade, a small frown sullying her otherwise peaceful appearance. Lyander shut off the lightsaber and held out the handle with an annoyed huff.

"It is just a colour…" he mumbled and did his best to release the annoyance into the Force.

That woke Hamsell out of her thoughts and she walked into the engine room. She looked down at him for a second before she picked up and examined the lightsaber. The woman turned it over, checked its balance and weight, and finally gave him a firm nod and handed back the weapon.

"You have done well, initiate," she said.

Lyander gave her a nod and pocketed the lightsaber. "Thank you, Padawan Hamsell."

The Twi-lek eyed him with some uncertainty before she sighed and motioned for him to sit. Lyander did so, though he could not help but give her a tired glare. He just wanted sleep, and the twisting in his stomach made him crave food.

"As you know, Initiate Strasa, the Sith has returned," Hamsell started.

He gave her a nod. Everyone knew the Sith were back. Obi-wan Kenobi was the 'Sith-killer' after all. Every initiate had gossiped about it for a week. Especially Jaka. There had been awe in Jaka's eyes when he spoke about the 'Sith-killer'.

"And the Sith use crimson lightsabers. I am just worried that it will reflect poorly on you, initiate. I worry it might hamper your chances to find a Jedi master."

That made Lyander's eyes widen. He stood and balled his hands into fists. "But it is just a colour! And the Force led me to it! How can it be bad if the Force let me find it!?"

Hamsell pressed a finger to her lips and nodded over her shoulder. "The other initiates are sleeping, please do not wake them."

Lyander snorted and sat down. "The Force guided me to it…"

"I know. But you should know it might make a knight second-guess picking you. Vanity is not a desirable trait for Jedi, but to be known as the master of an initiate with a Sith blade? Some care for their reputation and the purity of their image. Not all, but some. I just wanted you to know, initiate," Hamsell said and anxiously twirled one of her lekku.

Lyander squeezed the lightsaber in his pocket and shook his head. He couldn't help but growl. "I will not make a new lightsaber. I will not do it. Even if it means I have to join the Jedi corps."

The Twi-lek eyed him for a second before she gave him a nod of respect. "That is good. It is good to hold strong convictions. The Force did lead you to that Kyber crystal, and it is yours to keep. Furthermore you will have a chance to dispel rumours and gossip during the tournament. Prove yourself there and many potential masters will have to acknowledge you."

Lyander looked out at hyperspace rolling by them and then nodded. "I will not fail."

That made Hamsell smile. "Good. Now I do believe you should meditate on your frustration and anger, no?"

"Food first. And then sleep."

She laughed and nodded. "Of course, initiate, of course. You have been here for five hours after all."

"Five!?" Lyander said in shock. "But it felt like…"

"No time at all? Yes, entering a trance certainly makes time feel obsolete. Something you would be more prepared for if you paid attention during your Force technique class, no?" Hamsell said with a small teasing smile.

"I am paying attention! It's just… It doesn't work for me like it does for Jaka, or anyone else. It takes time. And it makes me tired…"

Hamsell nodded. "I understand, initiate. But that just means you must work even harder. Why don't you then join me for meditation? Perhaps I can tell you something that will help centre you."

"The engine centres me…" Lyander mumbled. "It blocks out everyone else's noises and movements."

Hamsell looked over at him with curiosity. She seemed to ponder his words for a second before she focused her attention on him once more. "Could you tell me where your friend Jaka is right now?"

Lyander tilted his head at the woman and he closed his eyes. He felt the presence of the others across the ship and he felt a familiar presence near the cockpit. Jaka's presence inspired calm and stillness, implying the Zeltron was asleep.

"He's asleep near the comms unit, or the nav. He likes to watch computers work, I think," Lyander shrugged.

"And how did you know he was there?"

That made Lyander pause. He stroked his chin and then looked at the Senior Padawan in bewilderment. "I— I don't know. I just do. I always do."

Hamsell eyed him, intrigued by his ability. "You should focus on centering yourself, I believe that would help."

"I will try, Padawan Hamsell," Lyander said with a bow.

"Do or do not, there is no try," she smiled.

"Very funny, Master Yoda," Lyander said with an exasperated smile.

Hamsell rose to her feet and left the engine room. "Follow me, I will find you something to eat. And then I will teach you a trick my Master taught me to help centre me in the Force."

Lyander happily hurried after her, his stomach screaming for food.