In. Des tried to pull air in through both nose and mouth at the same time. It required no effort or thought while he meditated, outside of that trance however, it was a little bit trickier.

  Pause. He held his breath, waiting for the double beat of his heart.

  Ba boom. He readied himself, anticipation building as the second beat approached. Ba boom.

  Out. Des did not push his breath out, he released it, allowing the natural elasticity of his lungs to power the flow, His lungs emptying as he readied himself for the next cycle.

  Interrupting his practice, something soft struck him on his left shoulder. Turning his head he saw a pillow floating a few inches behind him and Jason wearing a smug, self satisfied grin.

  “Still not bored of that trick?” Asked Des as he watched the pillow fall. Since the first day of the new year fete, upon learning how, Jason had found every opportunity to float any small objects he could with the Force.

  “You’re just jealous,” Jason retorted, his grin widening.

  “I am,” Des admitted with a smile of his own. “And I plan to return the favour ten fold just as soon as I figure out the trick for myself”

  Jason's smile cracked somewhat, Des’s banter falling a little flat. He had reassured his friends that he was not worried about timing out or having a weak connection with the Force but Jason did not truly believe him.

  At the time he had panicked for a moment, but he quickly remembered his issues were most likely the result of his void given powers and even if he was wrong about that, meditation is how you strengthen your connection. Even if he was the weakest Force sensitive ever recorded his advantages should fix that. He hoped he was not deluding himself.

  “Is it time to go?” He asked, already knowing the answer. Jason would not be here to retrieve him otherwise, but he was trying to move past the awkwardness.

  “Yeh, Krit and Shofo already left. They didn’t want to be late for physical training”. In response Des rose, joining Jason they set a path for the temple training grounds.

  Jason was quiet as they walked, the earlier awkwardness still lingering. “Des?”

  “Yeh?”

  “Why aren't you worried about Timing out?” he paused there, but before Des could answer the question Jason continued. “You’re really not worried are you? Shofo said you weren't but, you really aren't. Even though we were the last to advance to control exercises, you’re still not worried. Why?”

  Understanding came to Des, Jason had not truly believed him because he feared he himself would time out. Des considered his response, The truth was not an option so he tried a different tact. “Would timing out be so bad?”.

  That seemed to stump him, but only for a moment. “Yes. I’m going to be a Jedi Knight. Not a farmer”. Jason's response came accompanied with a look as if Des had suggested they go skinny dipping in the vacuum of space.

  “Being a farmer wouldn’t be so bad. Yeah we wouldn’t be Knights or even Padawans but, we’d still be Jedi and we’d still have our connection to the Force. Honestly though, I don’t think either of us is fated to be a farmer”.

  “Why are you so sure?”

  Des shrugged. “I don’t know”. He grasped for an answer that would reassure but the best he had was lame even to his ear. “I guess it's just faith in the Force”. If Jason sensed Des’s internal cringing at his answer, he showed no sign of it.

  To Des’s relief his answer seemed to satisfy Jason, though he stayed quieter than normal for the remainder of the walk.

  Exiting the central walkway into the Jedi training grounds the two boys made their way down the ziggurat to join the other members of Clan Salamander. As they did so Shofo approached them and tilted her head behind her while saying “New Instructor”.

  Des looked past Shofo and past the others to see a member of an alien race that for once he recognized.

  She was a Zabrak. Most of her skin was enclosed by a pair of loose tan slacks and simple green tunic, but what Des could see showed a distinct yellow and black pattern. Atop her head lay a crown of horns, the other tell-tale sign of her species. Small as the horns were, they still managed to stand out from a contained mane of black hair. The hair gave Des pause, till now the only Zabrak he had seen was Darth Maul. He could not say why but he had assumed all Zabrak were bald. What stood out most though, were her eyes, they were Yellow.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “We are still waiting on one more, yes?” The new instructor's voice was as business-like as her hairstyle.

  “Yes Master Jedi, Initiate Grant had to use the fresher” answered one of the girls.

  “Very well, we will give him, ahh, nevermind, I believe that's him now” she said turning her head.

  Des turned as well, looking up towards the main entrance to the courtyard. Sure enough the last member of his class was making his way to them.

  “Good, now that we are all here. I am Jedi Knight Tal Hadrin and Today, I will begin your training with the lightsaber”.

  That one word shifted the atmosphere, instantly everyone was at full attention, eagerly awaiting her next words.

  “Before we begin”, she reached to her hip, unclipping her lightsaber then holding it out for all to see. “This is not a toy”. The words were given space to linger before she continued. “It is an incredibly dangerous and deadly instrument, a potent tool for any Jedi trained in its use. in untrained hands however, it is as likely to end the user as any opponent they would wield it against.

  “The training sabers you will be provided will be set to the lowest possible stun setting, only capable of inflicting pain. however, you will treat them with the same level of respect you would a fully powered lightsaber. I hope that is understood”.

  “Padawan, please lead the initiates to the training sabers”

  “Yes Master Hadrin, this way younglings”

  Des had been so distracted by the new instructor he had failed to notice the gangly teenage boy behind her. Based on how slow everyone else was to react, Des was sure he was not the only one to miss the blonde Padawan.

  In no time at all they were led to a short rack of near identical lightsabers. The only noticeable distinction between them was their size, some were clearly intended for hands even smaller than his own, while others were sized for grips far larger. The Padawans' selections while quickly distributing the training sabers confirmed his guess.

  The whole retrieval took so little time Des only had a few moments to examine the weapon he had been handed before they were back in front of their Zabrak instructor. He had felt a familiar itch in that brief time, despite his issues connecting to the force, he knew he could reach into the Lightsaber with Mechu-deru and know it, inside and out. He also knew doing so would probably land him on his butt for the remainder of the class.

  “Good, now everyone form a half circle facing me” she instructed,

  Des complied lining up with all the others.

  “Dalen” she said as she turned to the padawan assistant. In response he raised his right hand, held in his finger tips was another training saber, this one larger than the rest. Des’s attention had been shifted to the Padawan so he missed the instructor raising her hand, but he did not miss the lightsabers flight as it snapped firmly into her grip.

  “We must begin with how and where to hold the hilt”. Turning her hand the Zabrak held the weapon out, palm open so all could see it. “Notice these bands.”

  The instructor proceeded to explain how these bands marked the correct hand placement for one handed and two handed grips. From there she explained the difference between a hammer grip and a handshake grip. The former was used for strong slashes and defensive blocks, while the latter gave greater reach for thrusts and allowed faster and more precise strikes, sacrificing some of the hemmer grips strength.

  They were shown a basic ready stance, feet shoulder width apart, with one foot leading, knees slightly bent for maximum stability. Then they were directed into neat rows where they practised the stance and switching between grips while the instructor and her assistant moved among them making corrections.

  Once satisfied they moved to footwork. They were shown some simple steps, forward and back with emphasis on when to shift weight from one foot to another. Then onto turns, focusing more on heel and toe positioning for quick pivots that would not result in tripping over your own feet.

  There was an unintended harmony as each training saber was ignited at the same time. Each student not hesitating a moment when finally given permission to do so. Knight Hadrin proceeded to introduce them to the primary strikes from form one, Shii-cho.

  None of the strikes were complex, there were basic diagonal slashes, both ascending and descending. Then an overhead chop and rudimentary thrust followed by long sweeping horizontal slashes clearly intended for multiple weak opponents. Vertical and horizontal blocks utilizing a hammer grip for extra stopping power followed that.

  It was then that the lesson's difficulty began to ramp up. Each swing and stroke were simple in themself, every step and pivot, easy enough to repeat. However combining them was proving much trickier. As Knight Hadrin called out then demonstrated the most intricate combination of moves so far, Des could not help but reflect on how impressive Shii-cho was.

  A basic set of movements, strikes and parries that anyone could learn in a single afternoon yet combined together they formed a fully comprehensive combat system that would take far longer to master.

  Time flew by as sweat dripped from every Initiate. Their motions were slow as they learned then practised each manoeuvre but the intensity and focus took its toll. When the lesson inevitably drew to a close they were all spent, though none showed it.

  The buzz of excitement was still palpable despite the physical and mental fatigue as clan Salamander made their way to their dorm. They moved together, none, not even Des considered separating. Mentally, all of them were still back in the lightsaber lesson reliving every swing and stumble.

  Finally someone broke the silence. “I can't wait for tomorrow's lesson, you think we’ll get to spar?”

  Des was so caught up in his own remembrance that he missed who the questioner was. Not that that mattered as the question broke the dam, creating a muted din as everyone began speculating all at once on future lessons and when they might be allowed to train on their own.

  The rest of the walk back was filled with repeated speculations before they all separated to clean off the sweat and grime of hours of lightsaber practice.

  The rest of the day Des felt like he was in a holding pattern, waiting for the next class. That night's group meditation was laughable, with everyone equally distracted. The same was true in the following morning's lecture. It was about Geonosians and why they are not actually a hive mind despite what people think.

  Unsurprisingly every initiate arrived early for the next class on lightsaber combat. Des stood with his friends, all of them quiet, waiting patiently for their instructor to appear. When she did, she was accompanied once more by her assistant. This time the gangly Padawan was carrying something that looked to Des like a particularly thick briefcase.

  Neither of them said a word as the Padawan placed the case down then opened a section in its upper right. Moments after he did, a grapefruit sized sphere emerged from the cavity, then remained floating at around Des’s eye level as it twitched and jerked around seemingly at random.

  “Initiates, let me introduce the Marksman-H combat remote. Also known as a seeker or training droid.”

  Of course Des recognized it, the scene of Luke training with one of these devices was iconic. He felt conflict within himself at the thought of being hit by one of those stun bolts but, winning out over that was a far stronger thought.

  ‘This is gonna be fun’