Star Wars_ I, Jedi - Michael A. Stackpole [68]
Luke did allow Kam to start training me in lightsaber combat. I used my grandfather’s lightsaber and relished its cool, smooth weight in my hand. I could feel the antiquity in the weapon and almost feel Nejaa Halcyon’s hands pressed there with mine. I think that sensation broke the final wall for me, allowing me to accept my position in the grand tradition of the Jedi. If I could feel my grandfather’s essence in the weapon he had wielded, then I felt the weight of his responsibilities on me as well.
We began with remote training. I had a nodding acquaintance with the little floating balls that could sting you with a quick needle of blazing energy. At the CorSec Academy remotes played a part in blaster training. A blaster set on stun could knock a remote out, so trainees used them as targets. In my time at the academy I became very good orienting on movement and nailing a remote with a blue bolt.
“The object of the exercise here, Keiran, is not to kill the remote, but to defend yourself from its shots.” Kam let one of the small balls hover over his outstretched palm. “Use your lightsaber to block the stingshots. Once you can do this with one remote, we’ll work with more. And once you can defend yourself against a handful, we will work on redirecting the bolts at various targets.”
I gave Kam a smile. “It’s a goal.”
Kam released the remote and I ignited my lightsaber. The silvery blade splashed cold light over the interior of what had been the Rebel hangar in the Great Temple. We chose to work inside instead of out because the Temple’s walls would stop the remote’s bolts. While they wouldn’t do more than wound my vanity, a stray shot could stun a woolamander and probably kill a stintaril. Since I was as much of a danger to myself with the lightsaber as anything else, doing everything possible to avoid collateral damage was a good idea.
The remote hissed and puffed as it floated through the air. It spun, then spat out a quick ruby dart that lanced into my thigh. I cursed and hopped back, but the remote came in, pressing the attack. I set myself and willed away the pain, then worked on picking up the remote and its next blast.
While the remote, being lifeless, did not have a direct connection to the Force, it existed within the universe bound together by the Force. I made myself disfocus my attention on it directly and instead gain an impression of where it fit within the immediate area. I opened myself to the Force, allowing it to seep in and extend my sensory perception. Then, there, I saw the remote moving through the Force, leaving little oscillations in it like a moth moving through smoke. By spotting the disturbances it created, I was able to pick it up and track it.
Likewise, within it, the transference of energy created even smaller vibrations within the Force. I sensed the microtremors of energy gathering to fire a stinger. I pinpointed where that reservoir of energy existed and began to bring my lightsaber up and around. As the stinger diode spat scarlet fire, I swept my lightsaber in an arc that picked off the dart heading for my stomach. A nano-second later I caught hints of another bolt, but missed blocking it.
The dart pinned my left foot to the floor. I yelped—and Kam’s laughter did not help ease the pain—and danced back. My retreat bumped me into a pillar I’d not expected to be there, rebounding me back toward the remote. It fired again, but the lunge I took at it got enough blade in front of me to deflect the bolt back off over my right shoulder.
And right past Kam’s right ear.
He arched an eyebrow at me and hit a button on his remote controller, powering the unit down. “Did you manage that on purpose?”
I dropped to one knee and rubbed my foot. “I’d love to claim credit, but I’m not the Force genius that Kyp is.”
“That’s readily apparent.