Lightsabers

21

Tenel Ka sat up and looked around with brief disorientation before she remembered where she was. Letting her gray gaze skim across the ancient stone walls, arched doorway, and modest sleeping pallet, she experienced a sense of warmth and safety—and excitement.

It felt right to be back on Yavin 4, in her own student quarters in the Great Temple. She sat back on her pallet and began practicing her new skill—braiding her hair with one hand and her teeth.

Over the past weeks, the wrongness in her life had slowly dissolved, beginning with her parents’ safe return to Hapes. Having foiled an attempt on their own lives by Ambassador Yfra’s henchwomen, Teneniel Djo and Isolder had hurried back to find their daughter and her grandmother unharmed. They immediately sought out and purged the remaining conspirators from the royal court, while Ambassador Yfra awaited trial.

To Tenel Ka’s great surprise, neither of her parents had tried to talk her into wearing a synthetic arm or discontinuing her studies at the Jedi academy. In fact, when she had expressed her desire to continue her training, her mother and father had readily agreed, asking only that she stay to visit with them for a few weeks before returning to Yavin 4.

“I believe you may become a stronger warrior than ever you imagined,” Teneniel Djo said. “You have powerful legs, fast reflexes, and you still have your better fighting arm. From what your grandmother tells us, your wits have not been dulled, either.”

“And I think you may teach many a future opponent that one cannot judge a warrior’s worth by her outward appearance,” her father added, hugging her. “Never be ashamed of what you are—or who you are.”

When Luke Skywalker had returned in the Shadow Chaser to take Tenel Ka and the other young Jedi Knights back to Yavin 4, there had been no mistaking her parents’ pride. Her mother’s final whispered words still echoed through her mind: “May the Force be with you.”

Now, after a good night’s rest in familiar quarters, Tenel Ka felt ready to take her next step to recovery. She stood and stretched, delighting in the well-controlled response of her muscles.

She spent the next few minutes ransacking her belongings until she had collected the objects she needed. She found her remaining rancor-tooth trophy wrapped in its supple leather covering. She tucked it under the stump of her severed arm—not a completely useless limb after all, she noted with some satisfaction—while she searched for another item. When at last she located the jewel-encrusted tiara from Hapes, which her grandmother had insisted she take, she placed the two articles side by side on a tiny worktable in the corner and studied them.

Both objects were symbols of who she was, of her upbringing. The rancor’s tooth came from Dathomir, a planet that was wild, untamed, fierce, and proud. The tiara symbolized her Hapan inheritance: regal bearing, refinement, power, wealth, and political shrewdness.

Tenel Ka had long believed that honoring one part of her heritage implied that she must dishonor the other. Just as she had believed that trusting in the Force implied a lack of trust in herself. Wincing at the thought, she was compelled to acknowledge that she had actually gained wisdom from the loss of her arm. She knew now that she had to use every ability she possessed—including her talent with the Force—to become the best possible Jedi.

But what of her heritage? she thought, picking up the rancor’s tooth and turning it over in her palm. Hapes and Dathomir. Could she combine the best of both? She was, after all, only one person.

Coming to a decision, she grasped the rancor tooth tightly, lifted it over her head, and brought it smashing down on the glittering, jewel-studded tiara. The delicate crown broke into pieces.

Tenel Ka hammered again and again until bits of precious metal and gems lay strewn across the tiny table.

Yes, she decided. She was a product of two worlds, and she would learn to blend the best of her mother’s and her father’s. She laid down the rancor’s tooth and reached for the other items she had assembled.

Then, selecting the finest jewels from her Hapan tiara, she began to build her new lightsaber.

Brilliant morning sunlight played across the top of the Great Temple and filtered through Tenel Ka’s partially braided hair to form a red-gold nimbus around her. Jacen stood about a meter away, facing her, a gentle breeze ruffling his unruly brown curls. His face was filled with apprehension.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said simply, though she felt an uncertain fluttering in the pit of her stomach.

“Well, I’m not sure I can go through with it,” he said in a low voice.

“You? But why—”

“Blaster bolts! The last time we did this, I ended up …” Jacen’s voice trailed off and he looked significantly at what remained of her arm.

“Ah,” Tenel Ka said. “Aha.”

“So I’m asking you if you’re sure,” Jacen said, “because I’m not.”

Gray eyes searched brandy-brown while Tenel Ka considered this. Her throat was tight with unaccustomed emotion when she finally spoke. “Jacen, my friend, I know of no better way to show that I trust you … that I do not blame you for what happened.”

Jacen’s face was solemn as he nodded his acceptance. “Thank you.” He let his eyes fall half shut and took a deep breath.

Tenel Ka did the same, feeling the Force flow into her, through her. Her muscles tautened—not with fear, but with a delicious anticipatory tension. Reaching for the rancor’s tooth clipped to her belt, Tenel Ka held it steady in front of her and pressed the power stud.

A blade of sizzling energy sprang from the ivory hilt, glowing a rich turquoise, produced by the rainbow gems she had installed from her tiara. A heartbeat later, Jacen’s emerald lightsaber hummed to life.

As if in slow motion, the two friends raised their blades until they hovered at eye level, just centimeters apart. With a crackle of discharged energy, their lightsabers touched once. Then again.

Hesitantly at first, Tenel Ka thrust with her turquoise blade, and Jacen parried with a barely perceptible nod.

The Force flowed between them, around them, and soon they were moving in ancient patterns and rhythms, as in a well-rehearsed exercise routine, an intricate dance. Somehow both of them knew that neither would come to any harm.

Their eyes locked, while the silent music that accompanied their movements built to a crescendo, then began to fade. But their confidence in each other did not wane as their movements slowed.

They stood still at last, lightsabers barely touching, a look of amazement on both of their faces. Jacen opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out.

A moment later, an ear-shattering roar split the air as Lowbacca and Jaina ran across the rooftop to greet them.

Jaina laughed. “I agree with Lowie: it’s good to see you holding a lightsaber again, Tenel Ka. For a while I was worried that you thought you were too different from us, that you couldn’t be our friend anymore.”

“Perhaps for a while I did,” Tenel Ka said. “But I have learned that differences can be positive, that they can be blended together to form a stronger whole.”

“We are pretty different,” Jacen pointed out.

Jaina switched on her amethyst energy blade with a snap-hiss. “But we’re all going to be Jedi Knights.”

Lowbacca ignited his lightsaber as well. Its shaft glowed a molten bronze.

“Stronger together,” Tenel Ka said, raising her turquoise lightsaber high over her head.

Lowbacca lifted his lightsaber to touch hers.

“Yes, stronger together,” Jacen and Jaina said in unison, crossing their glowing blades with the other two.

The four lightsabers blazed into the morning light.