A Marine Went to Jedi Camp/Chapter Six

A Marine Went to Jedi Camp

Chapter Six

Military-grade vibroblades, I hear, can take about ten work-hours to make, depending on length. Low-grade blaster pistols, due to their ubiquitous nature, can be churned out by the airtruck-load on a daily basis. A Marine-issue sniper rifle, honed to personal perfection by some of the finest weaponsmiths in Republic space, can take a full week to customize and assemble. None of these weapons, however, can hold a glowlamp when compared to the time and effort involved in the crafting of a lightsaber.

For a solid month I threw every fiber of my being into the task, meditating over each component so that I could comprehend its nature and how it would interact with the weapon I was assembling, all under the direction and guidance of Master Vrook. Bonding with the crystal was one of the highlights of this part of the rituals, as it seemed to embody who I was both as a Jedi and a Marine. Assembling the hilt felt more to me as though I were rebuilding my life, one bit at a time, reconciling who I was, who I had become, and who I would forever be, long after my spirit departed from my body&mdash;for the final time. The culmination of the entire process came when it was time to charge the lightsaber's power cell for the first time. I had prepared myself for the occasion by following the strict diet and meditation schedule that had been outlined by countless Jedi Masters as they passed their knowledge along to their apprentices. The task itself, which involved channeling the power from the charger to the cell through my own body, would normally have required a level of skill that none but the most powerful Master on the Council possessed, but through countless generations, it had been ritualized so that even an initiate could do it.

On that fateful occasion, I sequestered myself in my quarters with my nearly-completed hilt and a small, portable generator. Following my Master's instructions, I touched my left index finger to the charging port on the power cell itself, left exposed by the removal of the pommel cap, my right index finger to the circuit lead on the generator, and, after opening myself completely to the Force, used it to touch the charger's ON switch. Almost immediately, I felt waves of electricity pass through me, and I soon left body and conscious thought behind as my spirit undertook a most important journey. At its core, the building of one's first lightsaber not only represented a coming of age, but the fusion of the many aspects of being. As the weapon charged, sending waves of Force energy throughout the weapon, bringing its disparate components together in one rapturous whole, everything that I had ever experienced, every facet of my personality, was brought together into solid clarity. I was a Marine, but I was also a Jedi, a colony kid, a woman who wanted nothing more than to protect those who could not protect themselves. It no longer mattered what tradition I followed, or what discipline I used, as long as I stayed true to myself. And, finally, I knew who I was: Laera Reyolé, defender of the Republic.

&mdash; &mdash; &mdash;

The final ritual ended two days after it had begun. Exhausted, both physically and mentally, I was brought out of my trance by the sudden absence of current flowing through my body. Thankfully, I possessed sufficient reserves of energy so that I was able to screw the pommel cap back onto the hilt and test it for the first time. Apprehensive and confident all at the same time, I pressed the activation switch, sliding it forward into locking position as a cerulean shaft of light erupted from its tip in that unmistakable snap-hiss. Grinning my elation, I inhaled deeply the slight scent of ozone that indicated that every component was working as it should, and that the bottom of the blade was not eating away at the hilt. Just to make sure, I extinguished the blade and reactivated it, and sure enough, it sprouted to life once more. Rising shakily, I once again deactivated the blade and, clipping the hilt to my belt, I left the room to visit the refresher and take in a badly-needed meal.

The next morning, I awoke to find that I felt, for the first time, complete, whole, ready for whatever future awaited me. My strength had returned in full, and then some, and I marveled at how easily I could access the Force. I once again took in a simpler breakfast&mdash;no more heavy, greasy foods for me&mdash;then made my way to the Council chambers to present myself and my new weapon for inspection.

"Masters, it is good to see you well," I said as I approached their seats, unclipping my lightsaber and presenting its hilt to Master Vrook, who took it.

"Indeed," said Master Vandar, his tone light. "I see that you have completed work on your first lightasber. Your apprenticeship will soon be at an end."

I exchanged a look with Master Zhar, who motioned for me to recite the Code.

“There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.”

“You know the Code,” Master Vandar said, nodding solemnly. “I can sense your sincerity and commitment.”

Finally, Master Vrook spoke up. “Your weapon is complete, and as fine an example as I have seen,” he said, his tone grave, but with a little hint of pride. “You are no longer my apprentice. You are a Jedi in full, Padawan Reyolé.”

As Master Vrook stood and handed my lightsaber, a tow-headed apprentice, his robes askew and his face wearing a pained expression, rushed into the Council chamber carrying a portable holocomm pad. Placing it between the Masters and where I stood, he hurriedly plugged it into the nearest comm outlet. As the device activated, a hauntingly familiar figure resolved itself in the air between us.

"Greetings, citizens of the Republic," said a familiar voice from beneath a masked and hooded head. "I am Darth Revan, Dark Lord of the Sith. As you hear this, forces loyal to me have gathered together at Foerost, and a third of your fleet there is now in ruins, while the rest belong to me. I regret that this step must be taken, but it is for the greater good. If the Senate and the Supreme Chancellor acquiesce to my demands, than this war can be ended immediately, without further bloodshed. They are but two: first, that the Jedi Order join with me, uniting our power in order to prevent a greater tragedy; second, that the Republic Senate confirms upon me the title of Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, with all the rights and responsibilities inherent therein. I await your response."

The message began to repeat, at which the apprentice unplugged the holopad and made to return it to its proper place. A thunderous silence descended upon the chamber, and my innards felt as though they had been replaced by a young dianoga, which squirmed and slithered inside me. Without warning, I felt somehow corrupted, as though part of me had played a hand in this; denials to the contrary died in my mind almost as they formed.

The Masters exchanged glances with one another, communing in a plane above normal conversation. Though I could not make out what they pondered, what they shared with themselves, I could sense the flurry of activity within their auras. Finally, Master Vandar broke the silence. “Fallen to the dark side, they have,” he said gravely. “Not just Revan and Malak, but all the Jedi who fought with him and lived. Taken with them they have, the soldiers, starships, and leaders under their command.”

“I must contact the High Council,” Master Vrook announced. “Doubtless they have heard this message as well, but we must coordinate our efforts if we are to stop the Sith.”

As he made to leave the room, I reached out and grabbed his arm. “Master, wait,” I said, grasping for words. “I fought with Revan, I know most of the people he took with him. If there is anything I can do to help stop the invasion to come, please, let me know.”

“I am no longer your Master,” Vrook said, turning to face me and placing a hand on my shoulder. “You are free to choose your own path of service.”

The elder Jedi's hand was warm on my shoulder, and the corruption that had begun to snake through me was swept away. I closed my eyes, then, and pondered my next move, reaching within myself for the answer. It blossomed forth in a wave of white-hot resolve, burning away all doubt, emblazoning me once again with the seal of the Marine Corps. This was what I was destined for, this was why I had been brought back to life. I was to be an instrument of strength for the Republic, to serve as the hammer that would temper its sword, so that every sentient being might someday live in peace. My eyes blazed with triumph as I opened and locked them with the man who had been my teacher, who had helped to guide me to this one pivotal moment.

“We Marines, we Jedi, have a new saying,” I said. “Sic Semper Tyrannis&mdash;thus always to tyrants. I will return to the Repubilc, and bring with me the will to resist the darkness.”

Fin