//------------------------------// // 54: Apprenticeship (III) // Story: Empire and Rebellion // by Snake Staff //------------------------------// “Discipline of the body is second only to discipline of the spirit,” Bastila was saying. Before her, on yet another pleasantly-warm Dantooine morning, Twilight was running through a series of martial arts exercises with a simple wooden staff. Though her face and bare arms were sheened with sweat, the alicorn’s face was serene. The staff twirled and spun nimbly in her hands, though she routinely threw punches, kicks, chops, and as well as abrupt thrusts into the sequences. “Your ability to consciously control your own musculature is a rare and formidable asset, but it is not unprecedented. The Jedi have trained rare apprentices from shapeshifting species, such as Shi’ido, in the past. They too had the power to alter their shape at will. And as they discovered, there’s little need to build muscle when you can simply will it to grow as you require.” Twilight tossed the staff high into the air, spinning at a slight angle. The princess did a backflip, landing gracefully a few yards back. She reached up and caught the descending staff in one hand. Then she opened her eyes. “How’d I do?” she asked, a little breathlessly. “Very good,” Bastila smiled and nodded. “Your natural connection to the Force is formidable. When you let it flow through you, you’re capable of a great deal.” “That’s what Princess Celestia always said. Well…” Twilight scratched the back of her head a little. “Maybe not those exact words.” “I daresay you must have been one of her greatest pupils. Raw strength in the Force and a potent academic mind must make you quite the magician.” Twilight blushed a little, but said nothing. “But there is a danger,” the hologram frowned a little. “Too many times in the Order’s past, natural talent has lead certain pupils to fall into laziness, or worse, arrogance. More than one Jedi failed to develop on their abilities and met a poor end because of it, or sometimes even came to believe that their gifts made them inherently superior to other beings.” She sighed a little more wearily than Twilight had seen before, though the alicorn resisted the temptation to ask. The holocron’s gatekeeper would tell the story when she felt it was time. Bastila looked back up. “These pitfalls are why it is important to practice discipline, and to hone your body and your mind. Constant use keeps your skills sharp, and awareness of your limits helps to prevent overconfidence. More practically, your focus could save your own life or the lives of others. In combat, where the difference between victory or death can be millimeters, it is vital you have absolute mastery over every aspect of your being. Therefore, even if you don’t need to build your muscles, you must not be negligent in training your body or succumb to the temptation to simply coast on your talents.” “I understand,” Twilight nodded. That bit of Jedi wisdom she had no issues with. The holocron’s projection smiled at her. “I am glad to hear it. And be assured that all your efforts are not in vain. I sense we are fast approaching a… milestone.” “There is no substitute for live combat,” Darth Vader said, as the shuttle rocked beneath his boots. “No training program can adequately simulate the battlefield, no practice routines or martial drills will ever teach you half as much as a lightsaber in your hand and corpses at your feet.” Luna looked up at the Sith Lord. “It is when blasts fly and the difference between a glorious triumph and an ignominious grave is a split second that the power of the dark side is at its purest. The rage, the terror, and the hatred fuel its potency, burning away the doubt and weakness. Kill and be raised up, or die and be forgotten, these moments best exemplify what it means to be Sith. Let cowards skulk in the shadows and fence with words, mystics mutter over cauldrons and seek fortunes in visions and dreams, the battlefield is where true power is forged.” “I understand,” Luna nodded. Their shuttle began to slow down. There was another bump, then a shudder. And then the landing ramp before them lowered onto a wooden Wookiee platform. The racket was immediate. Blasters and bowcasters firing, shouted commands and alien growls, screams of the dying and barks of pain, bombers soaring overhead and explosions rocking the great forest, all combined into one deafening, horrific, glorious symphony of destruction. The princess felt her heart beating faster already. “Go then,” Vader said. “Prove your understanding in the only way that matters.” She bowed her head, called on the Force and ran. Four lightsabers flared to life, and Luna proved her understanding. Proved it most thoroughly. The stars shone brightly through a crystal-clear night sky. Spike lay curled up aboard his bunk on the Harmony, the fire he had started for his friend long since died away to embers. The holocron lay on the dirt amongst the flattened grasses of the prairie, pristine as ever yet still and silent. A princess sat, legs folded yet not touching the earth, eyes closed and face utterly serene. The night was chilly, and her head and arms exposed to the wind. Her clothing was thin, yet she was sweating. She’d been here for hours, though time had lost had lost its meaning to her. Immersed deeply into the light that flowed through, and from, all living things, her mind was focused deeply on the task at hand. Mechanical parts danced in a merry circle about her head, as though she was a star in her own right. One by one each part was analyzed, considered, fitted, rejected, and joined the dance again. It had been this way since before the sun had set. “The crystal is the heart of the blade. The heart is the crystal of the Jedi.” Twilight could hear the mantra in her mind, relaxing in its own way despite its irritating combination of sense and nonsense the extinct Order had so loved. “The Jedi is the crystal of the Force. The Force is the blade of the heart. All are intertwined. The crystal. The blade. The Jedi.” It was exactly the three hundred and seventy-second time the mantra had passed through her head. Not that she was keeping count or anything. Hours continued to pass as the princess meditated there, allowing the Force to guide her through the steps. The process was messy, intuitive, and dominated by trial and error, the smallest discrepancies forcing extensive refits and adjustments. It went against all her instincts do this so blindly, but she supposed that this was half the reason for it. The process was lengthy, laborious, and physically uncomfortable, though in truth Twilight felt none of it. Her will, and the Force, sustained her body and dulled her mundane senses. She would sit here for hours, days, weeks – however long was required. This had to be done, and done right. For the sake of the galaxy. For the sake of her home. For the sake of her friends. And it was done. As the sun slowly rose on the planet of Dantooine, Twilight opened her weary eyes at last. As little night creatures scurried back to their burrows, she reached out a shaky hand and grasped her handiwork, scarcely daring to believe that it might actually be finished. She thumbed an activation button, and as the sun’s first golden rays touched her sweat-soaked head, a brilliant blue blade erupted to greet them. Twilight stared for a moment at the humming lightsaber blade, mystified and almost breathless. She had never held a weapon like this before in life, yet somehow it felt… natural. Like it was less a weapon, and more and extension… no, an expression of her. This was the first time she had so much as touched it, but it already fell into the palm of her hand like an old friend. The princess couldn’t help but grin proudly as she savored the moment, taking a few soft, experimental swings at nothing at all Nothing but the soft chirping of birds was there to applaud her, but she didn’t care. After a few swings, she reached down and fingered the second activation stud, and watched triumphantly as a second sapphire shaft came into being.