The glowing, light blue form of the Saber Master leaned back, folded his arms, and began at a mild pace.
"One! Not so wide a stance, padawan. Two! Not straddling a tuk'ata, here. Three! Better...Jung!"
~~~
Gyrinim reached out with his senses to the small crystal device sitting on the crate across the room. The holocron's glow shifted, the deep red radiance brightened to a soft, light blue as he thought of his lightsaber, and his ideas for how to modify the weapon. An instant after he mouthed the name of the saber master imprinted within, Xieran Halcyon's image appeared in the center of the room.
The imprint greeted Gyr as he always did. "How can I help?"
The archivist responded as he always did - by clearing his throat. "Saber Master, thank you. I was wondering if you could help me apply the Ways of the Sarlacc and Ysalamiri to a...different weapon."
The imprint glanced down at the saber clipped to Gyrinim's belt, then at the metal staff lying across his legs. It raised an eyebrow. "This isn't about those regrets you had before, is it, padawan? We can continue to work on your control with the saber. And, I'd rather not be remembered by history as a Jedi stick master."
Gyr grinned at that. "No, Saber Master. Instead, I was thinking of modifying my saber..."
"Oh, now that could be interesting." Halcyon's imprint tilted his head, as he cut Gyr off. "A saberstaff? And you, a padawan who didn't even complete his training in Form I with a Master supervising you?"
Gyr stood up, a challenging look in his eyes. According to records, Master Halcyon had been quite proud of his accomplishments with the Ways, and would have a hard time passing by an opportunity to test himself. "There is Knowledge, Saber Master. You yourself have graded me proficient in both Forms I and II."
"Yes, but you are not what I would call a natural, consular. We'll be working twice as hard." The image looked Gyr up and down, frowning. "Maybe three times. Are you sure you don't want practice lifting rocks, instead?"
"If I am correct, Saber Master, I should adjust for the added length and change in grip by...." he held the staff horizontally in front of himself, but gripped it off-center, closer to the right hand side.
"No, padawan, unless you feel certain you prefer to be just a torso." The image sighed, and Gyr breathed deeply to repress a grin of triumph. "Three times."
~~~
The imprint counted off more quickly, calling out marks and maneuvers.
"One! Two! Three! Jung! Two and sai!"
Gyrinim breathed deeply and let the memory of the marks he had been practicing take over for his hands and feet. He felt that he would start to trip and stumble if he tried to force his body to keep up normally, and the imprint would call out if his memory got something wrong. For now, there was no rush, no fatigue, just his mind, and the Force. His mouth formed the words "There is Knowledge," and began to anticipate what the imprint was about to call.
~~~
The holocron's glow was a deeper blue as it sat on the edge of the workbench. Gyrinim hunched over the center of the table, and another imprint stood over them both. The figure's pointed ears peeked out from it's long, white hair, and it's arms were folded, hidden somewhere in it's heavily-mantled robes. The imprint's lack of motion, and it's expressionless, pupil-less eyes, gave the impression of a statue. Gyr had read a few accounts that Jedi Master Arca Jeth gave that impression when he had been alive, too.
"The cystal shards seem to have responded well to our previous work, archivist. By all accounts, you only need to weave the strands into the zeyd cloth and attach the thermoplast plates."
Gyr reached out his claws behind him to another worktable, and one of the jumble of tools he had gathered from around the base snapped into his hand. He pulled down a heat-visor - working this close to some of the tools and the heated crystal strands put a strain on his vision, and would have left him blind after just a few minutes.
The imprint of Arca Jeth had used the right word - the crystals hadn't simply been worked, but had responded to the heat, the pressure, and being shaped by Gyr through the Force. It was as if they knew the form the archivist wanted for them, and helped. He only needed the help of a legendary Jedi sage to figure it out.
"Armor, even more than weaponry, suggests a casual relationship with violence, archivist. A lightsaber must be drawn and ignited. Armor is clothing for battle, worn as an acceptance of combat."
Gyr nodded, and flipped up the visor to look at the imprint. "Yes. And as soon as i can, I'll take it off, and put it up on display. I feel like I need to wear it, for now, though"
The imprint nodded, and they both though of other Jedi who felt like they needed to accept violence for a time. Gyr went back to work.
~~~
"Onetwosaitwoonethreejung!"
The staff and Gyr both blurred through the marks as the Saber Master called them.
"One! Not so wide a stance, padawan. Two! Not straddling a tuk'ata, here. Three! Better...Jung!"
~~~
Gyrinim reached out with his senses to the small crystal device sitting on the crate across the room. The holocron's glow shifted, the deep red radiance brightened to a soft, light blue as he thought of his lightsaber, and his ideas for how to modify the weapon. An instant after he mouthed the name of the saber master imprinted within, Xieran Halcyon's image appeared in the center of the room.
The imprint greeted Gyr as he always did. "How can I help?"
The archivist responded as he always did - by clearing his throat. "Saber Master, thank you. I was wondering if you could help me apply the Ways of the Sarlacc and Ysalamiri to a...different weapon."
The imprint glanced down at the saber clipped to Gyrinim's belt, then at the metal staff lying across his legs. It raised an eyebrow. "This isn't about those regrets you had before, is it, padawan? We can continue to work on your control with the saber. And, I'd rather not be remembered by history as a Jedi stick master."
Gyr grinned at that. "No, Saber Master. Instead, I was thinking of modifying my saber..."
"Oh, now that could be interesting." Halcyon's imprint tilted his head, as he cut Gyr off. "A saberstaff? And you, a padawan who didn't even complete his training in Form I with a Master supervising you?"
Gyr stood up, a challenging look in his eyes. According to records, Master Halcyon had been quite proud of his accomplishments with the Ways, and would have a hard time passing by an opportunity to test himself. "There is Knowledge, Saber Master. You yourself have graded me proficient in both Forms I and II."
"Yes, but you are not what I would call a natural, consular. We'll be working twice as hard." The image looked Gyr up and down, frowning. "Maybe three times. Are you sure you don't want practice lifting rocks, instead?"
"If I am correct, Saber Master, I should adjust for the added length and change in grip by...." he held the staff horizontally in front of himself, but gripped it off-center, closer to the right hand side.
"No, padawan, unless you feel certain you prefer to be just a torso." The image sighed, and Gyr breathed deeply to repress a grin of triumph. "Three times."
~~~
The imprint counted off more quickly, calling out marks and maneuvers.
"One! Two! Three! Jung! Two and sai!"
Gyrinim breathed deeply and let the memory of the marks he had been practicing take over for his hands and feet. He felt that he would start to trip and stumble if he tried to force his body to keep up normally, and the imprint would call out if his memory got something wrong. For now, there was no rush, no fatigue, just his mind, and the Force. His mouth formed the words "There is Knowledge," and began to anticipate what the imprint was about to call.
~~~
The holocron's glow was a deeper blue as it sat on the edge of the workbench. Gyrinim hunched over the center of the table, and another imprint stood over them both. The figure's pointed ears peeked out from it's long, white hair, and it's arms were folded, hidden somewhere in it's heavily-mantled robes. The imprint's lack of motion, and it's expressionless, pupil-less eyes, gave the impression of a statue. Gyr had read a few accounts that Jedi Master Arca Jeth gave that impression when he had been alive, too.
"The cystal shards seem to have responded well to our previous work, archivist. By all accounts, you only need to weave the strands into the zeyd cloth and attach the thermoplast plates."
Gyr reached out his claws behind him to another worktable, and one of the jumble of tools he had gathered from around the base snapped into his hand. He pulled down a heat-visor - working this close to some of the tools and the heated crystal strands put a strain on his vision, and would have left him blind after just a few minutes.
The imprint of Arca Jeth had used the right word - the crystals hadn't simply been worked, but had responded to the heat, the pressure, and being shaped by Gyr through the Force. It was as if they knew the form the archivist wanted for them, and helped. He only needed the help of a legendary Jedi sage to figure it out.
"Armor, even more than weaponry, suggests a casual relationship with violence, archivist. A lightsaber must be drawn and ignited. Armor is clothing for battle, worn as an acceptance of combat."
Gyr nodded, and flipped up the visor to look at the imprint. "Yes. And as soon as i can, I'll take it off, and put it up on display. I feel like I need to wear it, for now, though"
The imprint nodded, and they both though of other Jedi who felt like they needed to accept violence for a time. Gyr went back to work.
~~~
"Onetwosaitwoonethreejung!"
The staff and Gyr both blurred through the marks as the Saber Master called them.
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